There was no one stirring in the flats. 73 < 10 > AT HOME, 1982 Lucy woke up the next morning with Shari’s slow sonorous breathing only a few feet away. Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older. "'Sdeath!" cried Jonathan, staring at the breach in the wall. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off.
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