Wooden stools scratching across the linoleum floor. For a moment she felt like running. Turning around and not going through with it. She paced back a...d forth in the small room as if to try and give herself a running start to flee. Suddenly she heard his voice getting closer. She could see his arm moving for the door knob through the small, frosted glass window. It was too late. No time to run. Taking a deep breath in she tried to collect her senses. The knob started to turn and the door swung. She had been married when I first met her, to her high school sweetheart. I had met him once, and took an instant dislike to him; he seemed a little too slick, always having a good excuse for the terrible things he had done to her, like his numerous affairs he had that Carrie found out about and more than likely more than that. I guess the final straw for me was the one night I caught him making advances on another cashier. Meanwhile, Carrie had always been faithful to him. Carrie and I both. More

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