‘For the rest of the day, through the proceedings at Solomon Schultz Funeral Home, I stayed by Reva’s side but watched her as though from a distance. I started to feel strange – not guilty per se, but somehow responsible for her suffering. I felt as though she were a stranger I had hit with my car, and I was waiting for her to die so she wouldn’t be able to identify me.’

– Ottessa Moshfegh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation

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‘I loved Reva, but I didn’t like her anymore. We’d been friends since college, long enough that all we had left in common was our history together, a complex circuit of resentment, memory, jealously, denial, and a few dresses I’d let Reva borrow, which she’d promised to dry clean and return but never did.’

– Ottessa Moshfegh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation

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