Atwood draws settings evocative of a fast-paced shift of moods. By probing Offred's pensive moments in the quiet of her Byzantine cell or on languorous walks to town by way of the cemetery or river, the author balances ennui and too much introspection with unforseen moments of unpredictability. Without warning, Offred deserts a bland meal to enter the Birthmobile and hurry to the home of Commander Warren. At the side of Ofwarren, whose labor pains precede Aunt Elizabeth's assisted delivery of baby Angela, Offred witnesses one of the more pleasant moments in an otherwise bleak series of scenarios. As Handmaids chant encouragement, the Wives leave their banqueting and prepare Warren's Wife for the Birthing Stool, through which Ofwarren's child is born. Atwood saves for later the sobering fact that Angela turns out to be a "shredder," Gilead's cynical term for a freak, the product of radiation-damaged reproductive cells.
From the vivid birthing scene to a suspenseful night prowl of Commander Fred's parlor, Offred, lurking in the dark sitting room, is drawn into Nick's embrace, then acknowledges the bizarre message — her master wants to see her in his private quarters. Incapable of guessing what he might want with her — more passionate sex, perversion, maybe even torture — she is nonplussed to enter a Scrabble competition, calling on word talents she has almost lost through months of living without books or newspapers. With the agility of a born negotiator, Offred profits from the Commander's need for more intimacy and parlays her value to him into hand lotion and facts about the political scene.
