- Your network
Long shadows covered the floorâ€™s edges, like curtains upon a carpet window. The oversized pane of glass, centering 2/3rds of the wall, gave a clear view of the full moon, hovering just over the horizon.
In the corner of the wide room, was an old woman in a rocking chair, holding a black book. She stared at the pages, unmoving. The packed bookshelf beside her only reached halfway up the wall; not a lick of dust covered it.
The phone began to ring; a high-pitched stutter that echoed through the house and into the room with the old woman. She made no move to answer it. Sitting still in the moonlit room, she continued her staring contest with the book. Eventually, the ringing stopped.
Without warning, the woman stood, and hobbled to the kitchen, where she deposited the book on the table. Slowly, she slipped a butcher knife from the stand on the counter. With unnatural stiffness, she turned to the side door and walked out into the cold night, leaving the entrance open, in her wake.Read this story
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