The familiar tune was punctuated by focused periods of silence while she carefully angles her knife between clenched teeth. Soon enough she finishes and her little song ends half way through. She goes over and props herself over the sink to place the butter knife down but pauses. Her ears go on alert, she’s onto you. You slowly sink back into the sheets and close your eyes until you’re peeping through a slit. Surprisingly she doesn’t turn around and instead sizes up something on the adjacent wall. What is she—