I like to imagine Trump as Roderick Usher, super-sensitive to sounds, colors, light, and even the mildest criticism.
Melania is, of course, Madeline, wandering the halls in a distracted trance (while, however, stunningly dressed, like a SuperModel), pretty much indifferent to Trump’s doings.
I look forward to the inevitable day when the Trump sign is taken off the building facing the Chicago River. I figure it’s only a matter of time before his financial reality requires a sale, and I can’t imagine a new owner will waste any time removing those value-destroying five letters.