“As a child I learned three things well: how to be quiet, what not to say, and how to look at things without touching them. When I think of that house I think of the objects and silences. The silences of that house were almost visible; I pictured them as grey, hanging in the air like smoke. I learned to listen for what wasn’t being said, because it was usually more important than what was. My grandmother was the best at silences. According to her, it was bad manners to ask direct questions.”