Anger and Empathy
I remember when I was very little, maybe three or four, my mother said to me, “What am I going to do with you?” I told her she could put me down the garbage chute. I imagined that was where the Sesame Street monsters lived. I thought I could live with them and that’s where I would belong. I also wanted to solve the problem for her.
Andy disassembled his weapon with lighting speed. He packed it away in the black backpack made specifically for a weapon of this sort. He bolted to the roof access door as fast as his little, chubby legs would carry him. He made his way through the condo/office building stairwell without being noticed just as he had done on his way up. Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.