There was one reason and one reason alone that she dragged herself here every day, to this machine, at the precise stroke of eight. But she didn’t care-not about any of them. She was a fixture to them-unimportant, not worthy of being noticed. They were so self-absorbed she would have bet her last dollar that not one of them would recognize her on the street even though she was five feet away from them every single day. She’d been coming to this gym every day for three months-three long months of watching these women of leisure working at the only thing they cared about.
For Lynn, the other bookend, for reasons too numerous to mentionĪmber Patterson was tired of being invisible.
0 kommentar(er)
