“Do you know the difference between toothpicks and spider webs?” It was one of those questions that Coe asked when there was too much silence.

“What, Coe?” Larry asked.

“That’s the thing. There is no difference because everything is connected. Bread and birds and stars and strollers and pain and heat. And that’s the trouble. Because nothing gets differentiated. And it’s all a mass of confusion.”

“That’s what’s wrong with us sometimes, Coe. The way we see things. I think nothing is connected. I think we try, but nothing comes close to anything else. We’re all like strings. Kind of floating in a wind. Maybe we touch for a second. And then some breeze makes us flow another way.”

She got up and looked at the spider web by the light near the mailbox. “Look at the spider,” she said. “It’s still in the middle of the web just waiting. Don’t you see that, Larry? Don’t you see it hiding like we are? Doesn’t that make us all tied together? Aren’t we connected like that? Can’t you see that, too?”