Poison Ink
“Her curtains billowed in ghostly fashion, and she dragged her bedspread up to snuggle deeply underneath it. She dreamed of being lost in a city where everyone was a stranger to her, with nowhere to go, and with the sun about to set and ominous shadows seeming to reach out for her from every doorway and alley.In the morning she rose and shut her windows, pausing to peer out at the heavy clouds. The overcast sky hung like a shroud above the house, and the day had an odd, dreamlike quality about it, as though it were neither night nor day.She pulled on sweatpants and went downstairs, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her father sat at the kitchen table reading the Sunday Globe.“Morning, sweetie,” he said without looking up.“Morning.” Sammi studied her dad. He worked in computer software, the perfect executive, and he still looked entirely too neat and tidy for a day off. He had always been that way. Sundays had always been their day—the one day he paid attention to her—but even then he ...seemed as if he would rather have been at the office.MoreLess
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