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Monday, September 22, 2003 The smell of glue was fresh in the air on both accounts. Wobbly legs gave way to blind determination. Comfort settled in, replacing fear and the aggravating itch of uncertainty. Early in the morning it all broke down sending bleeding wails into the dust covered sky. What was cracked broke again leaving a wake of irreplaceable pieces, a puzzle never to be completed. The air settled and she knew things would never be the same. Armageddon without an army. |