Good Work
Sam walked out of the bathroom and stretched. “I’ll be right out here when you’re done Mrs.Greenhaus.” Looking up, she wondered ‘If this is supposed to be their home, why do they insist on having these harsh fluorescent lights in every room?’ She walked over to the bed and began straightening the covers. A bright crocheted blanket was rested on top. It was a beautiful mosaic of color, and a last remnant of Mrs.Greenhaus’s once agile fingers. “I’m done, Sam.” Mrs.Greenhaus called from the bathroom.
