This is possibly my favourite short story ever, perfect narrative control beside (and necessary to contain) an almost voluptuous love of the sheer exuberant presence of a delivery man in the street the narrator comes to enjoy the existence of, as he pushes a hand truck through the crowds, occasionally lifting his voice in a song. Not that he can sing well—he forgets the words, can’t hit the high notes, and embarrasses the passers-by—but an absolute social grace is what Dawson’s writing creates in this unembarrassed, inclusive, brilliant vision of city life.

From The Man Who Changed Overnight and other stories & dreams 1970-1974, Santa Barbara: Black Sparrow Press, 1976