The fat woman looked at her. Her carrot-like dyed hair shone under the kitchen light. “One week! Just one week, she shouted. “If you don’t get out of here in one week, I’ll put you in a home.” “You’ll do what?” The other woman’s voice cracked. ”What are you saying? What type of home?” The fat woman stared at her. “I mean, a nursing home, you old lady.” “I rent a room from you. You are not related to me.” “I can still do it. See if I can’t.” it was too much. It had been too much for a long time. What had her life become, involved with these people? She didn’t want to descend to their level, but it was hard. “Nobody wants you. You have nowhere to live. That’s why you are here,” the fat woman continued. The renter stared at the wall. This is more than enough. The violence, this violence, she didn’t want. She’d seen it before, years ago. Now it had come back to bite her again. She turned her back and went into her room. The fat woman’s live in boyfriend said something. She pretended not to hear.