The only activity a cynic will find contagious is yawning, that is, with other people, at other people.

The conversation was one-sided. She was doing all the talking, and every time I opened my mouth it wasn’t to reply—it was to yawn.

You grieve at first. And then slowly, with the yawning of the years, the disappeared gets scraped from your memory, the way your flesh can be peeled from your limbs. It’s very harsh and extremely...