From 'Wind Turners'

Then the radio died and I hit the roof, because we had litterally nothing. Peter Kagin's neice sat in the cabin all day waiting for her uncle to return and take her away. It was heartbreaking to see her watch the fish in it's bowl of gunsmoke turn little circles all day long and say nothing. Soon after the radio died the little girl took to growling- constantly, to all of us, whether or not we were speaking to her. The only time she was quiet was when she was at long last asleep. She was tired of waiting. We were all tired of Waiting.