Driving in the rain, I see a crumpled brown thing ahead in the middle of the road. I think it is an animal. I feel sadness for it and for all the animals I have been seen in the road and by the edge of the road. When I come closer, I find that it is not an animal but a paper bag. Then, there is a moment when my sadness from before is still there along with the paper bag, so that I appear to feel sadness for the paper bag.
Lydia Davis, Almost no memory.
3.1.08
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