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It's hard to control the car these days, because of the way the current takes it. A dog swims past as I turn the corner onto Bracken Street from 23rd. I couldn't hit him if I tried. It's a good change for them: Dogs like to swim. The tail of the car swings out and bumps gently against a Chevy Leviathan heading east on Bracken. The driver storms and swears, but I ignore it. He'd never get that thing turned around in time to come after me.

I've been around the block three times and I've tried all the usual side streets, but I still can't find a place to park.

My car has learned not to need much oxygen. Yesterday I drove up the riverbed for miles, all the way up to McHenry under the cliffs. It's all mud and weeds down there in the river. I saw a lot of fish, but we see them everywhere now. They're in my lobby every day. The doorman has to sweep them out. Some he saves, because they're pretty or especially lively. You can see them dancing in his window on cold nights.

Finally, I see a Jeep leaving the kerb in front of the Mammoth Buiding. The Mammoth has an eddy in front of it, where the bodies collect. I don't like to park there. I don't know what they do in there, either. They never turn the lights on. I don't care right now. I've been driving all day and I'm tired. I'll take what I can get.

I moor the car to a parking meter and strike out for home, down the block.

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