It was also very busy, with a line up of women waiting to get a stall. One of the stalls did not have a door, it had been ripped off by vandals. Still...it was used and while waiting, Diane couldn’t help but look at the lady sitting on the toilet. For some reason to her it seemed most embarrassing, to see another woman do her business. Yet she couldn’t help but stare at her. The lady was sitting there she said, skirt up around her waist, and her drawers around her knees relieving herself. Diane. Looking around the apartment it was immediately apparent that the women were a bit short on cash. The little bit of furniture obviously came with the apartment, and the only other things that decorated the living area were a few sketches torn from an artists sketchpad. The drawings were done in charcoal and all had a sad and dark quality to them. One of the drawings was a ballerina, not in the midst of dance, but collapsed to the floor, clutching a foot in apparent agony. The way the artist had. As I made my way home I was feeling a bit depressed. Then as the cortege came towards me some impulse made me stop and I stood there with head bowed till it passed. I thought gee, I hardly knew the guy and if it affects me like this it must be totally devastating to his family. A bright light had just been snuffed out while thousands of bad guys were still running around. I heard someone say once that God moves in mysterious ways. "Well if he exists," I thought, "then that little maxim is. She was crying. "What's wrong, Mrs. Lunardi?"Ruth leaned back against the counter. "She's gone, Jimmy. Jennifer's left us."Jimmy stood in the middle of the kitchen trying to make sense of what she was saying. Mrs. Lunardi could be a drama queen sometimes, like the day when her husband moved out. Or when the divorce became final. But she could be a lot of fun, too, like when the three of them played Truth or Dare."How can she be gone? We're going to the Senior Banquet tonight. I bought a promise.