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Just Before He Had Another Panic Attack
- Wayne State University Press
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61 Just Before He Had Another Panic Attack The dog was asleep on the upstairs porch, and the street in front of the house was quiet. He was thinking about the night before, how he’d talked to his daughter who is living in the South of France. They’d talked about art. They’d talked about Provencal food and being dismissed. He had set down the novel he was reading; he was at that place where you look ahead and try to decide if it’s worth going on. He’d poured himself some ice tea and he’d wondered about tea, and who thought of lemon and who tasted the first lemon, and about the glass, about how his wife had always laughed at him for using this glass every time and how she’d always say, “How many ice cubes did you put in?” and he’d say, “Four.” It was around two in the afternoon. It was about an hour before the mail would come. And that’s why he’d sat down, taken a sip, the same kind of sip anyone would take on a summer afternoon, before the mail arrives, a couple hours after lunch, a few hours before dinner. ...