Saturday, March 29, 2008
A dead dog lying in the gutter on his side, a large German Shepherd, totally stiff, his legs held straight out as though in mockery of the dead-animal cliché. A woman pulls a small child away, the child fascinated by the death at the curb. Good God, the woman says, sneering. The incongruity, the absurdity, the New York afternoon heavy as stone.
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