



The week begins as every week begins now — the stolen-election drum, the midnight inflation grumble — and then Thursday afternoon the fortress goes quiet. The mother of his three eldest children has died in the city, and the announcement he writes is the gentlest thing the account has ever carried. The desert rally is postponed out of love and respect. He stands at the tower glass above the city where she died, and for one week the war waits.
Readers' Corner
Letters from the readership on Week 370. Pick a pen name — no account needed.
Opening the mailbag…