“Unveiling Secrets: What Columbus Never Knew About His Journey”
But since I am here, I want to see a pied-à-terre. I could benefit from a hushed atmosphere. I want to discuss books and writers with Philip Roth. I want Philip Roth’s hands all over me. And I want to say to my dad, “Guess who I met?”
WALK, blazes the streetlight, but I don’t move, and neither does Philip Roth. I look at the sidewalk, pocked with burnt cigarette butts and old gum, and groan, but quietly.
Dad finished American Pastoral from his plastic chaise longue in the backyard, then came back inside. He looked dazed and singed, as if our own house were on fire.
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