I love the radio. I have the radio on 621 just about all day. It used to be maddening, hearing hundred of other peoples voices over my life. But now there's a little pocket of my mind that switches on with the radio, and knows and loves those voices, and really hears what's playing when I'm trying to do something else. That part of my brain is a go-between for a lot of important information. I trust it to know what I need to know. There's very little reason it would want to subvert me. I'm a benevolent giant nursing it. Mother waiting for it to return home from school.
"How was your day?"
"Well, a freighter sunk off the coast of Australia, past the Coco Islands, a Melbourne man has been charged with beating his wife to death twenty years ago..."
'That's nice, dear."
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