The Work of It

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Once he saw Salman Rushdie hold up a book and say, “This is a hundred thousand words. That’s a hundred thousand choices. Impossible to get them all right.”

McCormick loves Enchantress of Florence.

McCormick is a hundred words each time. Only. He’s related to Haiku, and Tanka and Tweets. His choices, those made and those remembered, tax him to exhaustion.

He turned to the woman with him at Rushdie and said, “It is hard to be made of words.”

She said, “No. It’s like brushing your teeth or making the bed.”

She was wrong or she was mean. Either way.

 

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