In my particular suburb, every other lawn seems to have a little sign with a cartoon of a dog taking a shit on it, under the words PLEASE CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR DOG. But oddly enough, there’s also dog shit all over the place.

“But it can’t go on and on like this.” His silence seemed to ask, “Why not?,” and to answer it she made a little explanatory gesture with her free hand. “Without any meaning,” she said. “Anything to hope for.” “But it has been like that from the beginning,” he pointed out, genuinely puzzled. His eyes were still on the road. “You knew that. I never