As she dashes around the house, she laments not having a clone. Or ten. It would make life easier, she thinks as she scrubs a dirty pan.
But by the end of the day, everything was checked off. Angela collapses onto the couch. Exhaustion quickly sets in. She fights the feeling. There’s one more thing she wants to do. She drags herself to her computer and boots it up. Her characters are whispering to her.