His was the brightest house on the street. The street had no lights, as they never needed any.
Each morning a sealed box was delivered to his doorstep and he stocked it with the rest. There were times when he wondered what the boxes might contain, but then he just as quckly forgot. One morning they delivered a heart. He did not know what to do with it. It occupied a place on his table and for long, it stayed there.
On a day in fall, she asked for his heart; and he gave her the one on the table. Their children were born with a heart in their hands.
As they walked up the street the people, often looked the other way, lest they go blind.