Wednesday, August 4, 2010

bitter milk, pt. 11

Nicole walked around the block, and saw a house that cut through the police blockade. The cops paid her no mind as she ducked into the backyard through the unlocked gate for the high wooden fence.

The backyard was a fairly well-tended garden with cobblestones and a picnic table. It was empty, and a sliding glass door led into the house. It, too, was open. Nicole went inside.

Back at the house, Rosalind was still motionless. She was dead.

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