The Paris Review

O Fortuna, Velut Luna

What is Miss Treece’s trouble, according to a popular notion?

The man A has failed to show up. Arousing herself at the restaurant, she fixes her lipstick when her solo supper concludes and takes herself down the stairs situated behind the bar.

There, at her business in the restroom, the foamy hand soap is suggestive of fun, but there’s the wringing of her hands and the twitching of her fingers while she washes.

“I never heard. I

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