“There he goes again,” Joseph said, peering at his neighbor through the blinds, “I think he’s Mexican or something.” His wife reclined on the loveseat, with her book and her bad leg propped up. “I don’t even know how you’d know that. You haven’t even spoken to the man.” “He’s dark skinned. Well, darker.” “It’s dark outside.” “I just know these things, okay?” He said testily. “Joseph, get away from the window and let the man take out his trash in peace.” Joseph's desire to kee