I invited him for dinner and bought two quarts of Miller, some frozen dinners, and a bottle of catsup. We ate on the living room floor by the heater, Wayne first drinking his beer.

I ask when she will retire. She asks when I will have a baby. She used to say she would retire soon. Now she says, so she won’t retire for at least another year.

At 5:00 a.m. the loudspeaker sputters, then, “The mail from San Berdoo [San Bernardino] has now arrived.” From my vantage point I see workers pulling the cages, loaded with sacks and trays, out of the elevators.