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Show Woodworth/233 eyes are starting to feel dry across the top, crusty around the edges. She rinses off the mop, carefully regulating the water temperature so she won't burn her hand. The way you have to clean up eggs is with a paper towel, even though they will slime, and you can feel the plumpness of the yolks, and then the yielding when they pop in the towel. To be neat, she should return the mop to the closet first. When she turns, her feet slide out from under her. It all happens so slowly, just like the eggs falling, so she has time to think that she is just another egg that is falling out of the box. It doesn't surprise her to hear the cracking, like shelly. The only thing to worry about is that the refrigerator looks like it's falling, too, and that they will find her, they will see her like this. Mother. Then it goes dark, dark and quiet. Ned's voice comes from a distance into Marty's dream. Jake has died. Jake has died and she is awake, but won't answer. It won't come true until she answers, opens her eyes. If she is awake, it will begin happening. But then he is in her room, shaking her, proding her. Not dead. Not Jake. It's Ned. Leave me alone. Don't touch. His pajamas hang open. She can see the sparse gray hairs on his chest. He is wearing a pair of glasses, not his own. "Read that number," he commands, pushing the open phone book towards her. She pulls herself upright slowly, deliberately. Leave me alone. Get out of my room. He pushes the phone book at her again, nudging her chest. "Read that number. |