A Countdown to G-Day: Day 15

Something I scribbled in Physics class this afternoon:

The Missus, as she was called, had been standing by the doorway for quite sometime now. The kitchen door led immediately to the front yard and offered a stark view of the adjacent road; as such, the door was of the type that was divided horizontally, and at this moment the bottom half was shut while the upper half remained open. Her head was stretched over the bottom half. Her left hand gripped on to the bottom half, while her right hand was absentmindedly stroking the fat folds of her stomach, like a pregnant woman fondling her womb. Constantly, she would shift her weight from foot to foot, and the free foot would be tapping impatiently against the kitchen floor. Occasionally she would mutter underneath her breath, too low for Crow too hear. 

 Crow continued eating her sandwich. The bread was stale and hard as rock, and it required her to chew more forcefully and at longer intervals than she was used to. Still, she made no complaint; she ate in silence. Presently, her mouth began to tire of chewing and she started to gag. She forced herself to swallow, as she had no water to drown it out. She tried to rectify the situation, but she had no idea where the glasses were contained, so she decided to ask The Missus. 

 "Excuse me," she said faintly, too faint to be heard. She made a face, cleared her throat and started again. "Excuse me ma'am, may I please inquire where I can get a glass of water?" The Missus, in reply, pointed to a closed shelf right above the sink. Crow mumbled a thank you, and immediately went to get one.

 I wonder if I'll know how the events of this story reached this place and what would happen after.