janice obuchowski lily among the thorns dave just sent Lily a link to a short video about wolves being introduced to Yellowstone National Park. She’s at work, at her desk, her headphones on to listen to white noise to drown out Red, a senior writer who works nearby and never leaves, not even for lunch. It’s noon and everyone else has fled—if not to grab a bite in Harvard Square, then to go to the gym, the bank, to Trader Joe’s, to the river to let the fresh air do its salubrious work. Turning off the white noise proves distressing since Red is in the throes of typing, which for him is a lift-and-smash gesture akin to violent puppeteering. When Lily started working here last July, Red told her he’d first learned to type on a typewriter. As explanation for his clatter, this makes no sense. But this is apt, in that it feels emblematic, since little about this
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