She remembers hearing shoes shuffling, hiccup of her mother's stifled sneeze, water trickling down a pipe, soft breathing, whispers like pages of newspaper blowing across a deserted piazza, the neighbor's dog barking in the field, grunt of a curse, click of her teeth on her thumbnail, rattling of rain or water boiling or bicycle wheels turning, creak of a chair as whoever had been leaning back replanted its front legs on the floor, crackling of gunfire across the harbor or maybe someone had thrown a fistful of pebbles in the air, "ssss" in place of stai zitta, "ssss" in place of silenzio, strike of a match, her uncle clearing his throat, three quick coughs, suck of a cigarette, murmur of prayer.