EXCERPT You sometimes hear of men who walked out on it all, who upped and left without warning, went forth in their slippers for cigarettes and never came back. Their families say things like His coffee was still warm or He never took his keys or Look, there’s his jacket, as if the poignant iteration of these details will be enough to secure the return of their loved one. And sometimes they do—sometimes they do come back, these inconspicuous men who thought to exempt themselves from human affairs. But mostly we learn that they have stepped out of time, as well as place…