“Just watch me,” Linda said.

“You don’t contribute anything to this household.”

She picked up her yellow pad and walked past me into the kitchen.

At five o’clock I stepped out onto the back porch.

Cold rain fell on the gravel driveway, turning the gray stones nearly black.

The wind rattled the aluminum gutters overhead.

Margaret sat in a wicker chair under the green canvas awning.

She was holding a pile of folded linen napkins that cost eighteen dollars a set.