The one night we get some peace from the baby. Oh well. At least I have the day free. What color is your wallet? she said. Its black. Its real small. ... hope I did not loose it. I said. She went to go pick up around the living room. I walked in the dining room. I was making it look like I was looking for my wallet. I picked up the cards. Put away the poker chips. I took all the dirty dishes to the kitchen. I picked up the cigar butts. I took out the trash and put a new bag in the garbage can. A. There was nothing like that here. Private space was fought over, something as simple as a door held onto like a life raft after a shipwreck. The storerooms in food court kitchens, the changing booths in the old clothing stores, sometimes just a corner of a room where some furniture blocked the others’ view. Any place that might offer someone a reprieve of eyes on them was fought for. People either slept with their back to the wall for safety, or their face to the wall so that they wouldn’t have. More

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