Your telephone, your kitchen, your driveway, all these things that had a notion of you now change their gaze and watch you from a different place––no, two places. Everything now happens from two places. You brush your teeth in the second person and in the third person. You stand at the window in the second person and in the third person, watching the driveway, waiting perhaps for your child, who is late from school. You sweat from those places.

"We Point the Bone: An Essay on Thrēat" by Anne Carson, from Tin House’s Summer Reading issue.

Recommended, recommended. Returning to Anne Carson is always like a sharp, quick breath of winter air.