line_text: Almost instinctively, she turned to her husband. 'Oh, wait,' she thought, 'I don't have a husband.' For Lydia and her husband had had an argument, one they couldn't get past. Each night, they slept one inch farther apart, until one night, Lydia left. It was about this time she lost herself in imaginary worlds. She had quit the book club, the choir, citing something about their high expectations. Her lips slowly grew together from disuse. Everytime she wanted to act and didn't, another part of her face hardened, until it was stone. And that fevered night, she rushed to the nursery, threw open the door, 'Baby, are you okay?' Baby sat up slowly, turned to mother and said, 'I'm fine, b!tch, I'm fine.'