Daniel Haracz Wed 27th Dec, 2006 This is where Jenny comes to think, on clear days, when the falcon is circling in the distance. She scales the stones carefully, reaching a window where the stones are marked with blue by the scrape of her favorite cordurouy pants, then shimmies up the old, crumbling staircase to the roof. On top, she brushes cobwebs from her face and breathes deep, sucking in the older, cleaner air.
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Beacon (default) Last updated : Tue 28th Nov, 2006