Where has Arnold been?’ I said. ‘... the Westwoods get in the papers.’‘Patting the orphans.’‘Getting homes for the homeless.’‘Legs for the legless.’ She was laughing as she said it.‘Blind dogs,’ I said. ‘Dogs for the blind, that is.’‘Patting blind dogs.’ We both laughed and drank. ‘Getting legs for them.’‘Homes for legless, blind orphan dogs.’ Maybe we were both a little drunk, on bourbon or on the past.

A well-adjusted person wouldn't talk much. There's not a lot to be said about most of life. Most days, weeks, years, lives, nothing happens... and still we carry on chattering at each other.