He tumbled into bed and pulled out a comic book from under his pillow. Tiring of this quickly, he groped under his mattress for another kind of reading material. Strangely, when he was finished he would hide it again, although there was no one to hide it from, now. Trevor projected his thoughts into his mother's closet where her earthly frame now lay. Rest in peace, Mom, he whispered. I've done you a favor.
It all began to change two mornings before, after the night he left his window open against his mother's badgering. "You'll catch your death," she yelled, "and I'll have to take care of you! You'll lose your job, and then we'll have to move out and go live in the poor house!"
Were there really any poor houses, anymore? Mom was so old fashioned.
He remembered a deep, peaceful sleep fo
