struggling to call back over his shoulder as he is firmly led out the door.
he wearily turns his head to profile on the pillow and shuts his eyes.
he scoops up the baby and hurriedly tiptoes away toward the nursery.
he sits up and tenses. he looks around.
still craning down.
craning down. the faint national anthem ends: we hear the weeeeeeee of a test pattern.
looking.
feeling the look, he goes back to his cornflakes.
leaning out the window.
still creeping in.
still creeping in.
he opens the door.
he reaches back to pull up his shirt, revealing a gun tucked in his pants in the small of his back. he grabs the gun.
on his stomach, sighting down the gun toward lenny.