Sad Day Narrative

MAURA:
This was my first job. I was obviously nervous. My hands were cold, yet sweaty. It was cold in this old town, and I made sure to wear my dirty wool coat. I glanced at a small slip of paper in my hand. Who were they? What did they do that was so awful? I tried to clear my thoughts. If I wanted to stay in this line of work, I needed to stay calm and not think.
The sky was beginning to darken as Robert Holt walked down the narrow streets. He wrapped his thin corduroy jacket around him as he made his way down the crowded streets. Icy gray slush crunched underneath his feet. Grasping his briefcase tightly, he hummed the tune of a hamburger commercial. Feeling content as he turned the corner to his apartment building, he could see the dim yellow lights of the streetlamps glowing warmly around him. Everything seemed right.
An icy wind nipped at his nose, and he hurried inside the building. “Floor four, apartment thirteen,” he muttered quietly to himself. As he climbed the steep, unfamiliar stairs, he smelled the welcoming aroma of freshly baked biscuits. The soles of his

Setting down his briefcase on the shiny wooden floor, he looked around his tiny apartment. He had intended to set up all his furniture by Sunday night, but only a small wooden table, a chair, and his refrigerator (courtesy of the moving company) were visible in the front area of his apartment. Stepping over numerous boxes, he made his way into his bedroom, where only an uncovered mattress lay on the ground. As Robert kicked off his shoes, he flopped down onto the mattress. Ever since he had moved to Greensville two days ago, he was eager to walk to a local bar for dinner. However, the streets were cold, and he was getting tired. A sharp pain began to tug at the back of his head. He had a throbbing headache. Maybe he could go in the afternoon for lunch tomorrow. Digging through a box, he found a butter knife and a glass