The knock came early; the knock brought back memories of the events of 1958, in New Mexico, in Burma, events recounted in Document #4, the document which fed the nightmares which had rampaged across the mind throughout the night. The knock came again, this time followed by a small voice, a female voice.
— Hello? Is anyone there?
Answer or no? Best to go to the door, be sure not too disheveled, a quick brush with the hands and to the door; there she stands, a pretty thing in her youth, now a little older, a little wiser, a little too careful with her appearance, and she has something wrapped in foil she’s trying to hand over.
— You must be the new neighbor! It’s good to have more people in the building. Thought you might be able to use something to eat, so here’s some bread for you, hope you’re not allergic to bananas, it’s very good my husband thought it was great stuff when I made it for him before his accident. My name is Tess, you will find the rest of the building knows to come to me when they need something, just ask for Tess. So, it’s good to meet you, sorry to bother you, I hope you enjoy the bread!
The doorway is empty as soon as it was filled, and the door is quickly shut once the hall has no one in it, though her shoes can still be heard on the stairs, going up. The bread smells good; a plastic knife does the trick and a hunk of it is liberated, the rest in the fridge, and it tastes as good as it smells. Something to keep the body going, something to go along with some coffee, keeping the eyes open to pore over more documents, to find more information, to make the necessary linkages all while preparing for the worst.
November 5, 2007...12:06 am
A Perfect Counterpart: Chapter 4
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