Elegy for a Silent Galaxy
October 3, 1925 Les Deux Magots, Paris I am sitting at the table where I have been sitting for three weeks, writing a novel about a woman I have never met, in a place I have never been, about a life that never happened. The American coffee is cold and bitter, and the waiter has learned not to ask if I would like anything else. I ordered the coffee at nine in the morning and it is now past noon,...
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