I don’t know if this story will have an end. No story does, really, you just have to decide when to stop telling it.
There is no reason for a car to be in the lot before I pull in this morning. The way it’s parked haphazardly in the far corner of the lot has me suspicious and worried. The building manager assures me, there is no reason for anyone else to be here. And I sit, fuming and frightened, in the car. What are the intentions of the SUV driver. Is he still in the car? (The dangerous unknown is always a guy, it seems) Is he armed? Because, now, it seems any snowflake with a sense of entitlement can go buy a gun and take out his tiny, tiny rage on innocents.