Blanca was a sickly child. When they went to the beach on weekends, she talked on end. Her cousins gave her nickels to shut-up. C shared a room with her. She kept a stick in the closet she used at night to stop her coughing. Is it shame at having to speak the story in the present that garners regret or is some deeper substance at work? C has an animalistic might. She has little patience for softer creatures unless to quell loneliness or unless pierced by the repetition that turns into love.