Coffee and Kittens

I woke up angry at the cracks in the ceiling and my face. This apartment is too small, dingy, dusty. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen. No mirrors. There are railings in the bathroom and a chair in the shower and a walker by the door. There's a king sized bed, one side lower than the other from uneven use. Dragging my rebelling joints out of bed, I shuffled to the kitchen and shoved a mug into the coffee machine. Shaking and sputtering, the machine choked on brown sludge and ground its way into a slow death. I checked the tag on the cord. "This coffee maker has a lifespan of 10 years." Wonderful! Now I was going to have to get coffee downstairs with the riff raff. Anyway, while I was heading down, a little girl waddled into the elevator, something suspiciously hidden beneath her coat. I was thinking it was candy or something, an iPad she wasn't supposed to be using, but she pulled a kitten out of nowhere. So she turned to me with this kitten and asks "Do you like cats?" I do, but I wasn't about to tell her that--one should never give information to the enemy. I said "What's it to you?" and then she pushed the cat into my hands and ran out the elevator. I was so preoccupied with the thing that I almost didn't care about the nasty looks a group of dad's gave me as I stood in line for my coffee. Then, naturally, because my day was going kind of okay, these imbeciles in cop costumes walked up to me and started asking questions about Evans. "Did you have a good relationship with Evans? Do you know anything about the circumstances surrounding his death? You've been known to be, how should I say this, a bit aggressive in your interactions with other residents. Did you and Mr. Evans have a falling out before his death?" Did they think I was stupid? Did they really think I couldn't tell what they were insinuating? I threw my coffee-which I hadn't even had a chance to take a sip of- right at their heads. They look on their faces just barely made up for the loss of the coffee. I stormed to my apartment,  bad hip aching, the pathetic kitten perched on my shoulder.