She walked around the house picking up the socks scrunched up into a ball, the Coke can emptied to the last drop, the newspaper rolled up to whack a fly, the dirty dishes wistfully holding on to traces of a red sauce.
She stood still for a moment, waiting for the thud of footsteps on the staircase outside. None yet..
Back to business then. The cat was out exploring. The kitty litter needed to be cleared. The plants hadnt seen water for a week-she should do that now, she thought. Thirsty tendrils yearning for life...they were helpless in their pots, stuck out in the balcony. She knew the feeling..
Something snapped. A twig on the tree outside? The elastic on the laundry bag? Her patience? All of them perhaps..
The footsteps-at last! She reached for the front door and threw it open...
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