I entered the lobby. The ceiling was tall. Off to the left was a reception desk. To the right was seating where people could wait for a show to start....I walked up to the desk and as I checked my coat, noticed two painters arguing in French. One stormed away while the other shrugged, turned, and entered the bathroom. I followed him in. He unzipped his pants and began to pee in a urinal. No one else was there so I walked up behind him and strangled him. Then I took his clothes. I proceeded to. Darra wasn't going back to him this time, never. Five and a half years of hell were enough for anyone. Crossing the busy intersection to get to her car, she thought of all the times she'd given in to Paul and his demands. All the name-calling, the put-downs. "Not this time," she promised herself. It had taken her months to get up the courage to actually leave, and then more time with a therapist to even begin to undo the damage Paul had done to her self-esteem. It was a daily struggle, still,. More

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