“Sakurako-chan, when did you start writing the hanging scrolls?”“The day after it rained and I was here.”And after our shoulders had touched a...d her hair had draped over my chest. Before that, I hadn’t even touched her briefly, not even fingers touching when something was handed between us. And then again when I’d let her put the ointment on me, a very personal, very intimate act. What I hadn’t known at the time, but had found out a bit later, was that her grandmother knew about her bringing. .. BILL, DID YOU HEAR ME? ... PVT. WILLIAM SMITH, REPORT!" Sarge, Bill's dead. I saw him go down as we bailed out. He had a string of AK (AK-74) bullets across his back and through the radio."Damn! Now what? No radio means we are in deep shit! "WE DON'T HAVE A RADIO TO CALL FOR HELP! ANYBODY GOT ANY IDEAS?"A voice came from upstairs. "SARGE, I GOT MY CELLPHONE! IT WORKS AROUND HERE! MAYBE THAT WILL HELP!" PITCH IT TO ME! I'LL TRY CALLING FOR HELP THAT WAY! ... THANKS!" Now who the hell should I. "Really, it's all right, Soames... Miss Watson um, knows what's best--"But again Bronte's mouth was shut by Trixie's nasty hand."Dude, don't worry about it, this is fine." Ed said. "She's been through worse." That's right, Soamesey... I know you love your precious little Bronte, but I've got it all under control." Trixie grinned, and opened the back door, kicking Bronte onto the snow covered deck. Thankfully, the sleeting had stopped, but it was a cold February of about nine degrees.Trixie. I dumped out the clothes and tore the box open. I spread the flimsy sheet of cardboard awkwardly over myself as I laid down on the couch to wait out the storm. At least if there’s flying shards of broken glass…*I must have dozed off. When I opened my eyes again, it was to muted sunlight streaming through my (still intact) front window. Dazed, I swung my feet around, letting my makeshift cardboard blanket fall to the floor. The ceiling fan was still- no power, of course. Everything was eerily.
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