"had he felt this before he wondered? Maybe when he was a boy? Animals died by the side of the road and you saw that all the time, everyone did. You saw them lying there, so obvious in thier deadness, sad lumps of dirty meat; you saw their limp furry masses thrown up like flowers along the yellow stripes, the tumbly asphalt edges. You saw the red insides all exposed. You thought: that is the difference between them and me. My insides are firmly contained."

how the dead dream, lydia millet