The other stories I really didn’t like were “Measures of Music” (same iceberg problem as “Jumping”), and “Blood Work” (weird, ambiguous ending that reminded me too much of some of my classmates in the English department that say things they think are deep but that don’t actually mean anything). The problem is Clyde isn’t as good an author and so the story was just confusing. For instance, “Jumping.” Mary Clyde was trying to be like Ernest Hemingway and his “ice-berg theory” where you leave out a lot of the details so readers have to infer what’s beneath the service. Several of the stories in the middle were lame though.
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