Workers in an office, bent over their desks, waiting for five o’clock. Kay the custodian came by every afternoon, stood in the doorway and asked cheerily, “How’s your basket?” By this Kay meant, ‘Is your wastebasket full? Should I empty it?’ No one ever answered her. Kay came in and picked up the wadded paper, bottle caps, cigarette butts and whatnot that had been hurled at the wastebasket and missed. Her work done, and no conversation to be had, Kay left. The years went on. Kay died and left two daughters. Who knew? An Army Lieutenant and a university professor.