Green beetles tick against the lighted windows. The crickets stay. I’m irritable on the phone, feel I’m supposed to entertain you, but I’ve had a stupid day and my only thought is full of complaint.Your’re tired, and the delay on the long-distance line causes us to interrupt each other and to say with a harsh edge, “I can’t hear you; I’m sorry.”

It isn’t worth hearing; I’m talking because if I didn’t something would be wrong. “Lock up.” “Get some sleep.” “Where will you be tomorrow?” “There’s a jet going over. Wait.”