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He took a few deep breaths. He felt cold all over. He looked at hisnaked body in the mirror. He knew that body very well. He had touched iteverywhere for the last few years."Sonya," he called out again, but still nothing but silence.He reached for the fuzzy pink bathrobe he had bought her on the bathroomwall hook and put it on. He heard the faint excited murmur of voicesfrom street level drifting up to him, but he couldn't understand any ofthe Chinese being spoken below anyway so he ignored it as he usually didat night.He slowly walked back into the bedroom, found her glasses on the tablebeside the bed and put them on. Everything jumped into sharp focus. Helooked at the silent naked man on the bed. Now he could see his own facestaring blankly up at him."Sonya, are you in there?" he asked his voice trembling.Still no answer. He backed out of the room again and went into theliving room. He sat on one of the chairs and reached for his smokes. Hefished one out of the pack and lit it with. Piotrowski. Scott wasn't sure if the foreman wanted to help him get the motorcycle running, or help speed along the eventual yard sale that the entire Fort Stockton area seemed to be waiting on.The days were starting to pass by in a blur. Tuesday found Scott surrounded by piles of boxes. The inventory had been progressing nicely. He had stopped being amazed at the variety of things they were clearing out. The box immediately in front of Scott had what he had just described on paper as, 'Door knobs, various, antique brass?'"Scott, let's grab some lunch. How about I treat you to a sandwich at Meritt's? We can check the computer too," Mr. Piotrowski's head was poking through a space in the boxes."Is it lunch already?" Scott looked at his watch, tapping the face. It still read 10:30."Your watch broke?" Yes, sir, I guess it finally wore out," Scott wrote a note on the cardboard box lid, secured the pen to the clipboard and stood up. He stepped out from the cage of boxes and looked around.
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