A Quiet Rhythm, Pierced

The Los Angeles Times

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September 13, 2020

In the middle of the shutdown I do something wild and crazy. I give my little brother a ride to his girlfriend’s house. It’s just five minutes, but we aren’t quarantining together, so I make him sit in the backseat kitty-corner to me and hang his head out the window like a dog. We drive down Line Street and then Main, after dark in our tiny town. We drive past the vacant Trees Motel, the shuttered Mexican restaurants. We pass the signs: on the theater marquee, in the dark shop windows, on sidewalks in chalk…

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EssayEm Gallagher