Nory was not sleeping at all. The air was cool but damp, and it was difficult to acchieve the right combination of warm and tired.
She was thinking about an ex of hers who was living in Cape Cod one winter. He came down to get her and brought her back to a knotty pine house barely furnished but for a grand piano and a couch in the living room.
He had a bed, of course, and they would listen to the radio at night, falling asleep. The radio had no knobs so they had to put a dime between the prongs to turn the dials.
When she got there, she found a jazz station that played wonderful soft nightime music from the thirties. Together, falling asleep they heard big bands play slow numbers and Billie sing the sad blues.
When Nory went home for a while, Kenneth called her to say he could not find the station anywhere.
It is as if it only plays when you are here by me, he said.
What happened to clock radios? Nory thought just before drifting into slumber.