on. Maybe ts o t t one t could be satisfied t of taking it to an all-nigaurant on the highway.
A special kind of mig be?
I can present it ic image.
One, I am in a little boat, floating on a quiet sea. ter, I see ting up from tty close to ters surface, but just tell. Four, transparency of ter interferes ion of distance.
te description of t arose in my mind during time my o an all-nigaurant and I agreed ;I guess not.quot; Not being Sigmund Freud, I o analyze t I kneuitively t it ion. grotesque intensity of my anding--I all but automatically agreed ion).
e did t better ting t like beer muc ter cookies in ttom. tovers, soft and soggy, but wo, savoring every crumb.
It and boundless as tter cookies and beer left not a trace.
time oozed t in a fis. I read t on tared at my c tor door. I turned terdays paper. I used tcard to scrape togetabletop.
quot;Ive never been t; s;I o do ;
quot;Maybe,quot; I said. quot;Or maybe not.quot;
ed for more fragments of food, I leaned over t and looked do ter volcano. ty of ter all around t gave me an unsettled feeling, as if a ically sealed cavern t rance nor exit. Somet tential reality of nonexistence--resembled t feel op of a eeple. tion between hunger and acrophobia was a new discovery for me.
occurred to me t I omac as empty t was--
quot;time of ttack,quot; I heard myself saying.
quot;ttack? are you talking about?quot;
And so it started.
quot;I once attacked a bakery. Long time ago. Not a big bakery. Not famous. t bad, eittle neig in t w, ;
quot;If you o attack a bakery, ;
quot;ell, t in attacking a big bakery. All ed money. e tackers, not robbers.quot;
quot;e? ;
quot;My best friend back ten years ago. e buy toote. Never ty ao get our tack ;
quot;I dont get it.quot; S me. ar in t; you get a job? You could er sc acking bakeries.quot;
quot;e didnt to ely clear on t.quot;
quot;e