[ While he pours the wine, she makes him a plate. Slices of grilled meat and spiced meatballs on a skewer, chunks of charred vegetables, beans stewed in a rich tomato sauce, greens and rice, tangy cheese. She exchanges it for the wine, and then settles in beside him with her own, shoulder to shoulder. ]

I'm glad. I've always liked it. It's large enough to feel lost in, but relatively clean and quiet for a city of its size. And this has been home for a long time.

[ She's quiet a moment, eating, and then after a sip of wine pauses, head cocked. There's nothing there but the rain on the windows. ]

Isn't it nice not to hear anyone rowing nextdoor or coming up the hall to ask questions?