Friday, May 17, 2013

The sound of concrete cutting

The sound of concrete cutting came from across the road, light shone through the lace curtains. I sat in the quiet bedroom, no living soul beside me.
The faint shadow patterns moved across the cream coloured quilt and sometimes gave the impression of a chest rising and falling in gentle sleep. But it was not so, all was still and peaceful.
There were no tears.
Not immediately.

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