That was the house. That was all of it. You could stand in the middle of the front room and see every corner you owned.
The window over the sink looked straight out at the elevator and the scale and the trucks.
“It’s loud in harvest,” he said. “The fans run all night. And the train comes through about two in the morning and again around five. Mother said she quit hearing it after a month.”
“I’ve been listening to a quiet house for two years, Mr. Brandt. I believe I could stand some noise.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s corn dust on everything from now till Thanksgiving. I won’t lie to you about that.”
“What are you asking?”
“Five fifty. You pay your own lights and gas. I keep up the roof and the furnace, and I mow it when I mow the store.”
