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Linne Gravestock is a therapist and a cape-maker who needs your clothing labels and old gloves for her newest creations. She’d also like to know the whereabouts of Tchad Sheridan’s daughter, Susan.
I often feel, in this mixture of silence, isolation, ignorance and pettiness, that if I were struck by a virus, I wouldn’t fight it; I’d give up and implode and disappear. Dangerous signals, those. Not that I will put any effort into taking my life — I feel in large measure that it’s already taken. So I have to leave this place, and fight to get it back.
October 1980Tchad, in the front seat, turned to me in the back, waved his arms expansively and yelled above the traffic noise, “Tell us again how your grandmother barks like a dog, Linne! Tell it again!”
August 1980Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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