Which one is Victor’s again? They all look the same. I took thekey out and tried the first door I came to. Didn’t work. I tried the nextdoor. That...one worked.I walked into the apartment and I looked around, eyeing the mess thatVictor left me. I picked up the day old pizza and threw it into thetrash. At least I think it was a day old.I walked into his bedroom and took an inventory of his clothes closet.Mostly T-shirts. A few button down shirts. I scanned the t-shirts. Sportsteams and video game. People read books, maps, or just watched others walking around. There were maybe fifty of people around the square, none talking to another person except on their cell phones.A woman, in her early thirties, sat on a bench alone. Her makeup was applied overly thick as though it was hiding a black eye. Shoulders slumped, back curved, and arms clutched tightly around her chest, her posture screamed out to the world, ‘Leave me alone.’ It was not the posture of a person that was angry for the. More

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