I locked in on the smug feeling of superiority that married couples gave off and that permeated the air - the shared assumptions, the sweet and contented apathy, it all lingered everywhere - despite the absence in the room of anyone single at which to aim this. I concluded with an aching finality that the could-happen possibilities were gone, that doing whatever you wanted whenever you wanted was over. The future didn't exist anymore. Everything was in the past and would stay there. And I assumed - since I was the most recent addition to this group and had not yet let myself be fully iniated into its rituals and habits - that I was the loner, the outsider, the one whose solitude seemed endless.
I love that passage.
After Glamorama i'd written off BEE but Lunar Park's amazing, probably his best.
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