Mrs. Remington sang a jovial tune as she watered her daisies, unaware of the impending doom that would overshadow their bloom. The retired lady boiled a pot of tea in the kitchen, after gardening, and brought a cup of it along with two small club sandwiches outside. She sat on an Adirondack and began her daily ritual: watching her neighbors pass by.
I joined Mrs. Remington's activity, looking for recognition on the passing faces. The expected helicopter crashed into the garden, destroying the daisies and slicing Mrs. Remington into two with its propeller. However, Prudence was nowhere to be seen.