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I quickly packed an overnight bag to carry up the stairs with me after first double checking everything I had done. I'd even gone so far as to drape a towel over my chair, just in case. I'd turned on my camera, double checked the settings keeping it close, though removing anything that might be seen off to the sides and thus recognized. I'd even gone so far as to hang up a pair of white sheets behind me further obscuring the view and making it appear as though I had plain simple walls adorning my room should they even notice that. Satisfied, I made my way back up the stairs.By now, both my mother and my Aunt and dressed, but it was even obvious in that, they had no intention of going out, especially seeing my mother. She rarely if ever went braless, especially if she had any intention of going out. Now sitting there at the kitchen table, still drinking coffee, I noticed the tight form-fitting tee shirt she had on, obviously not wearing a bra. That and a pair of comfortable looking. How thoughtful of Darrin, she thought. She had wondered what she'd do for dinner and had decided her only option was a hotdog from the Seven Eleven.As she moved through the studio to go back up to the loft, she noticed a large painting on an easel. It faced away from her, but she wanted to see it. Seconds later, she nearly dropped the pizza. She was stunned! She had never seen such a powerful painting before. Obviously a Las Vegas scene, the faces on the subjects in the painting exposed their souls. A fat woman pulled the handle on a one-armed bandit, and she looked like she'd been on the same stool for her entire life. Well past her prime, the change lady in a short skirt looked harried and bored. Her legs were too skinny and an industrial-strength bra held her augmented breasts aloft. A couple, obviously from out of town, was arguing. She could almost hear their angry words. Carrie gathered from the scene that her husband had lost too much at the tables, and his wife was ragging.
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