Moonglow: A Novel by Michael Chabon:
My grandfather reached for the dashboard lighter. He did not want to force my mother to have to see her mother in a madhouse, and he did not want my grandmother to walk out of the madhouse after eleven months and see him standing there alone. He could not decide which of the two would represent the bigger failure on his part. He brought his fingertip near the element and felt the heat of it well before he let it touch his skin. There was a his, and the car filled with a nauseous odor like the smell of a tooth under the drill.
“Fixed,” he said.
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