"What's that play about the witches?" she asked.
"The Crucible," I answered offhandedly.
I paused in my reading.
"Arthur Miller," I said to myself.
Another pause.
"Death of a Salesman," I remarked, fond remembrance flowing past me.
She stared at me, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and probably clichely in at least a few other discernible ways.
"What?" I ask, and she tells me I've just answered all three of the questions she wanted to ask. Witchcraft and externalities, indeed.
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