She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down with a heavy sigh. I put the paper down and asked her what she wanted for breakfast.“Just some toast... dear.”I got up, popped a slice of the marbled rye she liked into the toaster, and took out the butter and jam. As I was setting the butter and jam on the table, I asked, “Still feeling bad about last night?”Mom stood up quickly and screamed at me. “Of course, I still feel bad about last night! Do you think I don’t have feelings?” She pounded her. I had no clue what the landlord was telling her. But it seemed to work for him. A young girl had her hands around his stomach. Ah! She must be telling him about different Pilates styles that he could do to reduce belly fat. The old fart could not care less, all that he should do is hog less.Before he could do anything more, I made a sound of door opening which caught him off guard. I walked in. Clarra was laughing and telling me to look at his pot belly. I did not smile. He wants to do Pilates. More

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