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.. I didn’t HAVE a broom closet... Slowly and quietly, I opened the door a bit more and peered in.I pulled my head back from the opening. Nope. Nope... that ain’t right, I thought.I continued into my bedroom and looked to where its wall constrained that side of the closet. I then retreated back into the living room and looked at how its wall would be the boundary for the side of the closet opposite of that. Finally, I poked my head out the window to confirm that the outside wall of the building. She bent her arms and placed her elbow on the table and rested her head down onto her palms. I was worried, thinking that she was crying, so I got up and sat next to her and tapped her. She didn’t response back. So to know if she was crying or not I placed my hand on the table and slid it slowly towards her in a way that my hand went in between her arms and was blow her face. She immediately stood up, looked at me and walked out of the room. I was scared, thinking that this argument might have. She blushes and turns him down reminding him firmly that she is married. Second time this woman has shot him down. John learns that Kitty really wants this job with David’s hotel company to become fulltime. She wants to “get out of her small town.” Her daughter is staying with her mother for this internship and Kitty shows John pictures of the very cute little button nosed girl. Kitty is a bit uncomfortable saying anything, but it seems her husband is not so keen on moving to LA. John can tell. Her mother hears the crash, then the pitiful screams. She dashes to the door. Aghast she sees her hearts desire, her splendid reason for being, splayed pathetically under the merciless limb. She screams in terror, and runs to her only child, her single precious claim to the future. She rushes to the scene of holocaust. Unable to remove the formidable object from her helpless child she flees inside and calls 911. The difference between her angel’s life and the brutal claim of a portion of cold.
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