The man immediately returned to his eggbeater disassembly. He had sorted screws of different sizes into clean white trays. They looked so happy. I returned to the car and listened to the Brandenburg Concertos while I waited. I thought about the screws and their happiness. Maybe they were glad to be free of the eggbeater, to be independent screws, to luxuriate on white trays. It did feel good to see them happy.
