NEW YORK MIINING DISASTER
range experience. I can’t explain it, but I felt as if tly split open and somet of it. And t air ed. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it, and t it, too. It made me t t t to t t of time.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Any to go again—to t, I mean.”
“You prefer a typhoon?”
“Yeaake a typhoon any day.”
t to o take t o tell o call it a day, but ing and scV. It y-seven-inc e control, to touco cV sound. I’d never seen sucV.
I made te rounds of ttling on a ne on car imports, an outdoor er s, a family suicide. All ts of news seemed someed, like people in a ion po.
“Any interesting nehe room.
“Not really,” I said.
“Do you c of tV?”
I s V.”
“t least one good t tV,” er a off whenever you like. And nobody complains.”
ton on te control. Immediately, t blank. till. Outside ts in otarting to come on.
e sat tes, drinking alk about. telep ended not to . Just as topped ringing, tton, as if ure returned instantly, and a commentator standing in front of a grapured er as he price of oil.
“See? even notice t ces.”
“true enough,” I said.
“?”
It oo mucrouble to t through, so I shook my head.
“c off, one side ceases to exist. It’s us or tcions blackout. It’s easy.”
“t’s one ,” I said.
“t trees. In Argentina it rains political prisoners from ers.” cV off again. “I don’t to say anyt ot consider t t t don’t end in funerals. types of deat smell.”
I nodded silen