How can someone hate herself so much? The sun reveals itself slowly- like the prize whore- the one that’s so beautiful. She hides. Shy. Prudish. Does he notice this? The way the sun plays so coyly with everyone including him? She doesn’t know. What about the Dalmatian cement? Does he see that when he leaves work? Of course he doesn’t. What did she do? A bird in the hand is better than 2 in the bush- yeah? Well nobody acts that way. At least she didn’t. She let her bird in the hand go.