Brenda was so grateful, she stepped inside and realized she was shaking violently. Brenda looked to her right and saw a lavishly decorated living room...with a roaring fire. A couch of what appeared to be a green couch. It looked terribly comfortable. The woman must have seen her looking so longingly at it because she smiled and touched Brenda’s shoulder gently. ‘Go sit on the couch by the fire, dear. I’ll phone the sheriff.’ Brenda nodded and walked into the living room. Crossing over to the. Everything was unusually usual. Same bath, same bed, same television and cough I had come to expect from this sort of place. From the window I could see the entire resort below me. Like tiny, naked homunculi, an entire hotel's worth of humanity scurried about, swimming in the pools, lounging on the beaches, and walking across the lawns. I checked the clock. The tour would be starting soon.I stripped down to a pair of trunks and stepped outside my room. It was odd walking through the halls,. She did not lower her eyes,but looked around,at the people and buildings around her,with interest,and though not knowing the fate that awaited her,whether she would live another day or not,and though still bleeding from a battle wound at her side,neither fear nor pain showed in her face,and neither awe of nor contemptfor the enemies who had overwhelmed and taken her.I saw her only for the time it took the captivesto walk by my house,and only for one short moment,as she looked up,our eyes. Swanson was expecting to only see Roger there. It’s why she came.They all stared at Kristen Swanson.”“She was the wife of a banker. An older, fat banker” Roger told them.He made it fairly obvious to them that her husband, Ned, was old and fat enough that Mrs. Swanson wasn’t really getting the amount of loving that she wanted. They had all grinned at that and the corresponding idea that they could fill in that gap. They were there at Roger’s invitation. Now, they hoped, the party was about to.
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