his paper propped against the electric toaster (nicely adjusted to his morning use), Daniel at breakfast studies world disaster and sips his orange juice. the words dismay him. headlines shrilly chatter of famine, storm, death, pestilence, decay. Daniel is gloomy, reaching for the butter. he shudders at the way war stalks the planet still, and men know hunger, go shelterless, betrayed, may perish soon. the coffee's weak again. in sudden anger Daniel throws down his spoon and broods a moment on the kitchen faucet the plumber mended, but has mended ill; recalls tomorrow means a dental visit, laments the grocery bill. then having shifted from his human shoulder the universal woe, he drains his cup rebukes the weather (surely turning colder), crumples his napkin up and, kissing his wife abruptly at the door, stamps fiercely off to catch the 8:04