- Vol. 05
- Chapter 02
NOBODY’S GONNA MISS ME WHEN I’M GONE
I submitted a piece to the New Yorker because I wanted to be like you— but they rejected it because I was still alive. What, I can't be famous until after I've died? Is man no more than just some staring manikin, waiting to be dressed in a store window? Is that the secret to your success? The clothes really do make the man, I guess.