There is a man on the television. He wears a thick soft sweater, and sits uncomfortably close to the screen. Goat thinks this must be some attempt at imitating an intimate conversation.
“Find the song in the silence,” the man says. Goat wants to mock him, and almost does, but doesn’t.
“The fear of being alone is an atavistic one.”
Goat hurries to the bookshelf, convinced a dictionary once existed on its shelves. Somewhere.
But he can’t find it.
“Where’s the goddam dictionary? ” he asks, louder than he meant to.
But the only response is the neighbour stomping up above.
A Bunch of Dumb Words in a Row 
I shall listen very carefully in my aloneness. Ignoring the upstairs neighbour, of course.