For her, the most memorable metaphor of Joseph Conrad’s
Heart of Darkness was Marlow’s futile search for rivets, a frustrating task because they were everywhere, except where he wanted them. She thought of this often, like when she faced an empty coin purse in front of a parking meter, all the while knowing there was a bowl of change back home. Or when the toilet paper ran out in the downstairs loo but a surfeit of rolls were stacked upstairs. Or waiting for the 47 South Lansdowne bus. It’s not like she’d be eaten by cannibals but it still resonated.
Lansdowne and Wade: I, too, have spend way too much time on that cold, lonely corner. It's usually faster and warmer just to walk home.
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