diary / by Edward Mullany


I once read a novel about a man who wakes one morning to discover that he no longer looks the way he remembered he did, and he can’t understand why, though his friends and acquaintances don’t notice any difference, or, if they do, don’t register surprise, which at first causes the man to think that they are messing with him, or joking, but then, when he sees that they are serious, to begin to lose his mind, by which I mean to quit his job, and abandon his relationships, and wander the streets of the city where he lives, with an aimlessness that’s out-of-keeping with what people ordinarily do, although, because we know what he is going through, even if we don’t know for certain that what he thinks has happened to him has happened to him, the behavior doesn’t seem unusual, or, anyway, inexplicable.