So here was this woman I’d never met — I did have the sense that I’d seen her before somewhere or other but still -- storming into my office to argue about what day it was. “If it was Wednesday,” I said, “Haggert would have been here instead of me.”
So, feeling anything but grateful, carrying an overnight case in each hand, Leo lets himself into the motel room while Sara takes the puppy on the stretch leash, the two wandering into the distance like snow ghosts.
... so this sentence, which is the story, which embodies the story, cannot be allowed to, has to be held in abeyance as it acknowledges an implicit mortality wholly alien to the nature of perfection ...
She had a hundred grievances against Jay, she had a litany of grievances — they often came to mind unbidden like the hypnogenic lyric of some ancient detergent commercial.
The tone of her voice plus the substance of her remarks were provoking, but B did what he could to keep his poise. He felt no sympathy for her, though he stirred the ashes of former affection hoping to find an ember.
After he unlocked the door with the key offered him, he warily stepped into a room very much like the bedroom of the house he lived in with his most recent former wife.
