A year's worth of The Sioux City Journal, Des Moines Register, Sioux Falls Argus Leader and New York Times was stacked neatly in piles next to the bookstand.
Elana returned to the window, the sidewalks and streets now empty.
She shook her head and snorted softly.
She put the cup under her nose and breathed deep, expanding her economical chest. She squatted and set the smoking cup on the window ledge, and resting her chin on her arms, welcomed the chill of the spring morning.
Why did that angry little man park at the curb each morning?
Was the beer man single or did he have three kids and a house with no trees up on a hill east of the mall.
What would it be like to be the older man there in the suit, walking with a briefcase from the '50s from his brick home and grandkids in Morningside.
Maybe she could become a teaching Franciscan at Briar Cliff, eat with a group and play cards, or walk giggling to a movie in the evening.
They'd excuse one little ol' abortion, forgiveness is their cash crop, for Jesus-mageezuz.
Ride in a station wagon to the dog races in Omaha on the Fourth of July. Drink keg beer from flowered paper cups on a fairy tale June evening sitting on donated lawn chairs in one humongous wooded back yard.
Elana sipped her coffee and spilled on her top. She patted her breast and saw that the square Ford sat empty.
She leaned her forehead into the screen and watched the heel of a black shoe going into the building.
She sprinted into the dining room, flopped onto her stomach and pressed her ear to the floor.
She heard a flurry of scuffles and thuds coming up the stairs.
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