In lieu of other cities. The dryer is spinning away with a reassuringly repetitive hum. Normality. Nothing but normality. Even the front page, normality. And the harping on atrocity of one kind or another (beheadings, the domestic abuse of various heroes of popular and money-making sports, the war cries, Scotland, the stock market). Normality. I mean the sky is blue, without a crack. There are birds chirping. The campus prepares for the onslaught of new and returning students by painting bicycle lanes with one-way arrows in front of the library, and shifting a few palm trees around. I'm going to make lunch, fold the dry laundry. Normality. What could go wrong?