the good it would do her.
Her stomach cramped with hunger, and despair clamped down on her again. She shouldn’t have run—she was only delaying the inevitable. In two days she’d be out on the street, and this time with nowhere to hide, easy prey for them, or those like them.
“So wouldn’t you like to escape altogether?”
The soft voice out of the darkness nearly caused Glenda’s heart to stop. She jumped, and clenched the side of the bench-rock as the voice laughed. Oddly enough, the laughter seemed to make her fright wash out of her. There was nothing malicious about it—it was kind-sounding, gentle. Not crazy.
“Oh, I like to make people think I’m crazy; they leave me alone that way.” The speaker was a dim shape against the lighter background of the fence.
“Who—”
“I am the keeper of this house—and this place; not the first, certainly not the last. So there is nothing in this city—in this world—to hold you here anymore?”
“How—did you know that?” Glenda tried to see the speaker in the dim light reflected off the clouds, to see if it really was the woman that lived in the house, but there were no details to be seen, just a human-shaped outline. Her eyes blurred. Reaction to her narrow escape, the cold, hunger; all three were conspiring to make her light-headed.
“The only ones who come to me are those who have no will to live here,
Her stomach cramped with hunger, and despair clamped down on her again. She shouldn’t have run—she was only delaying the inevitable. In two days she’d be out on the street, and this time with nowhere to hide, easy prey for them, or those like them.
“So wouldn’t you like to escape altogether?”
The soft voice out of the darkness nearly caused Glenda’s heart to stop. She jumped, and clenched the side of the bench-rock as the voice laughed. Oddly enough, the laughter seemed to make her fright wash out of her. There was nothing malicious about it—it was kind-sounding, gentle. Not crazy.
“Oh, I like to make people think I’m crazy; they leave me alone that way.” The speaker was a dim shape against the lighter background of the fence.
“Who—”
“I am the keeper of this house—and this place; not the first, certainly not the last. So there is nothing in this city—in this world—to hold you here anymore?”
“How—did you know that?” Glenda tried to see the speaker in the dim light reflected off the clouds, to see if it really was the woman that lived in the house, but there were no details to be seen, just a human-shaped outline. Her eyes blurred. Reaction to her narrow escape, the cold, hunger; all three were conspiring to make her light-headed.
“The only ones who come to me are those who have no will to live here,