I've just finished the memoir, "Hourglass: Time, Memory, Marriage," by Dani Shapiro. It is a tiny book -- the pages laid out with shockingly wide margins -- but does it ever pack a punch. Which is surprising given that Shapiro describes what many of us are living: the vague blandness of waking up next to the same person every morning, years on end. She and her husband "M." love each other. There is no dysfunction, and the drama is the kind you can't escape in life -- accidents and illnesses, ailing parents, career disappointment.