A garden - variety ranch house on a street full of garden - variety ranch houses. His tidy room's a refuge from dirty dishes, unmade beds, soiled laundry.Seated at his desk, door closed, he studies photosynthesis, marvels at light's transformation into sustenance.
Muffled voices rise above a sitcom's canned laughter. Footsteps echo down the hall.
"You don't get me," she says, walking past his bedroom.
"I'll return to counselling," her father says.
Laughter.
Doors slam. An engine roars. He imagines her Plymouth speeding into darkness.Tastes metal. Returns to his books, the ingenuity of plants, to the magic of light.