Shouting. Screaming. Yelling out in the middle of the night to no one. That voice. A screeching voice. One with a mix of cigarettes and whiskey.

Kentucky Fried Chicken barrels all over her apartment. The old woman hangs the fried skin of the chicken on wire hangers. She saves them for midnight snacks. bones from thighs and drumsticks litter the room.

She cries out obscenities. You mother fuckers. You sonofabitch, she carries on. You left me, she says. Left me here with nothing, she goes on. I hope you rot in Hell.

There’s a light on in the kitchen window. She’s on the floor. On her hands and knees. Pills are emptied out of prescription bottles. The old woman is naked. Rolls of fat, loose skin, knees shake. She wobbles as she tries to pick up the pills.

A young man looks in the window and sees her struggles. He notices pictures on the walls; a man in an Air Force uniform. Black and whites. A girl with ribbons in her hair. You mother fucker, she yells. You sonofabitch, she curses again.

The old woman looks up at the window and looks at the young man. What are you looking at? she asks. He quietly shakes his head and says, Nothing.