“That was the one right over mine. I wish she had moved somewhere else. The first time I saw her, I was coming home from the store, a bottle of whiskey wrapped in a paper bag clutched in my right hand. She had three cardboard boxes in front of her and was bent over one of them, lifting it. Dirty strawberry hair hung over the right side of her face so my gaze drifted lower to the skin between her blue stockings and thin yellow sundress. I tried not to let it stop me but I had to stare. She fina...lly hoisted the box up against her chest and turned, startled, to see me standing only a couple of feet away. “I’d like to help you,” I said. “But I can’t... I just can’t.” “Yeah,” she said in little more than a resigned whisper. Her face was thin and pretty. Everyone was thin these days but most people who were left weren’t very pretty. She turned her back to me and started into the shell of the building. I stood there until she disappeared into the darkness.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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