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Pheasant on a Postcard from Iowa City 

Talked to a man today who has been married and divorced, about a woman he is seeing—she is twenty-six—and how he would like and needs to keep her. How he plans to take her to Italy as often as possible and announce to her in a flourish, I give you Florence, I give you Venice, I give you Rome. I cannot give you Rome. Instead, I offer you Iowa and this pheasant we will pretend is the wild turkey we saw together running along a county highway somewhere in the state of Virginia.

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