‘Eat something, would you,’ the bartender said, tossing a bowl of half eaten fried bits to her. ‘You’re getting less pretty every day.’ Emel...ne wanted to snap, but the bartender was always friendly to her. He was the closest thing she had to friend. He would probably give her more food tomorrow and the day after. Back home, she slipped her legs through the opening of a velvety green dress. A dark color, standing out against the white of her chemise. She laced and tied the dress, alone, sitting. Where did she live? Where did she work? Did sheneed to work, or was she fabulously wealthy as her shoes and clothessuggested? William thought of how wonderful it would be to look throughher wardrobe, her dresser and closet. How many pairs of fabulous shoesand boots must be neatly tucked away in a huge closet.William was clearly not handling this. He had been in control over thepast few months, but it had been a false sense of security because hehad been focusing on work and ignoring his true. More

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