A finely observed tale of a day in the life of a London neurosurgeon as antiwar protesters fill the streets, a meditation on what it means to age, a parable about the inevitability of violent terror breaking into our homes in a world so unjust and ultimately, a naively optimistic fable (turning about that most modern of poems “Dover Beach” by Matthew Arnold) that the very modernity that drives the attacks will also end them, even heal them.

Your Correspondent, Objects become junk as soon as they are separated from their owner and their pasts.

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