What Makes Sense Natalie was manning the phones. Picking up a call, she sat bolt upright in her chair upon hearing the voice on the other end of the line. I looked at her; her face had turned white. In an impossibly solicitous voice she said, “Hold on, I’ll transfer you to Ross Fowler.” She transferred the call, carefully put the receiver back down with exquisite reverence, then sprung up and lunged at Colleen, the person nearest her, grabbing her by both arms and screeching, “That was Brent Daley on the phone! Brent Daley! Brent . . . Brent . . .” She rocked her back and forth in her fervor, almost knocking off Colleen’s glasses.
A powerful juxtaposition of the suffering from inhumanity and the ordinariness of humanity.