2.20.2012

51 of 365

She had used newspaper to cover each window on the first level of her three-story brownstone. The glue with which she had coated each page now coated her fingers. Sunlight penetrated the day’s news and cast a glow over the kitchen sink. She read the headline as she rinsed her hands. Her eyes widened, she frantically tried to tear the page off the glass. The glue held its grip. It was happening and she could do nothing to stop it.

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