Twenty years ago our street was lined with two-story houses. Today a (11) of glass towers stands where the old market used to be. The city welcomed the change, and the (12) still says the project brought jobs and shops. Older residents are less certain. They complain that the (13) block shuts out the morning sun and that the wind between the towers never stops. Even so, few of them plan to leave. Elevators, guards and covered parking make daily life easy, and from the fifteenth floor they can watch the (14) come in across the bay. Comfort, it seems, is the (15) reason for staying.
Water was rising slowly in the kitchen when we called a (16). He arrived within the hour, opened a small (17) beside the sink and shone his light inside. The problem, he explained, was not the pipe itself but the (18), which had been blocked by cooking oil for months. He pushed a thin (19) down the pipe and washed everything out with hot water. The whole job took forty minutes. Before leaving, he warned us that oil hardens as it cools, and that the cheapest repair is the one you (20) by pouring oil into a jar instead.