gravely finished reading Family Furnishings by Alice Munro
The later, somewhat darker, more explicitly autobiographical half of Munro’s anthologies of short stories.
Munro's characters tend to (I know this reads like a horoscope) move on from situations for the next thing without a plan, or to be a little selfish before getting back to being serious, if they ever do. She's always putting characters on trains, or in cars, or on buses.