’ There was a chuckle in his voice. " "It is," answered Wood. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. He talked about his driver's license, how he would soon inherit his older brother's BMW. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. It was his heart. On the stranger's appearance, she was seated near the window busily occupied with her needle.
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