Ellen de Jarvis was desperate in her small suburban home. The walls stifled her, and her breath trembled and throttled in her lungs. Now it gusted out like some stark nor'easter wind.
Pacing about, in the half-dark living room and fluttering her arms while insubstantial shadows roamed outside her darkened windows and looked for a way to peep inside to the De Jarvis family's homestead took a couple minutes. Then she resorted to cursing her husband's absence. Just because he had his job during these hours was no excuse for him to be separate from her when she needed him the most.
Choking and gasping, she made her decision. They could throw her under the jail cell, they could put her in those awful orange jumpsuits, and they could even take away her soaps, but she was leaving right now. It made her feel better, stand prouder, until the reality of what she was risking sank home into her stomach.
Holding her stomach against the acid, she went straight forward down the hall until sher reached Macy's room, and got her ready which was not hard for Mach was a very docile child.
====ok, that's enough for now. I gotta go to bed.