Steve looked down onto the streets from the window in his apartment and saw a woman walking in the blistering sun. She was tall and well-dressed, wearing a light blue business suit. Something about her hair and clothes made him think about his mother. He remembered that day his mother came home to find him coloring. Steve used to love to color, always keeping in the lines and using colors that would reflect reality. His mother was irritable, muttering to herself. Watching her pour a glass of wine, he decided to give her the page he was coloring.
“Hey, Mommy. Here you go, I did this for you,” Steve said with a smile.
She looked at it and didn’t say a word. She placed it on the fridge without a glimmer of happiness.
His stomach rumbled loudly. There was usually nothing in the fridge, and
