Imagery is quiet but precise: domestic objects, empty rooms, and small habitual gestures become stand-ins for past attachments. These concrete anchors let the text avoid abstract theorizing about autonomy; instead, it shows how autonomy is practiced in the small, repetitive acts of everyday life. The narrator’s self-sufficiency is not a single triumphant statement but a series of micro-decisions—turning down the phone, making the bed alone, laughing at a private joke—that feel convincing and humane.