
AWP Chicago 2009 #7
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Spooky dreams. Many ghosts. Just as I stepped into the shower, a woman stood there enjoying my hot water. I was furious and sad, I felt tired as I do now, I was afraid, and I said again and again this is my water, you know this, and she smiled and nodded and pretended not to speak English for a moment, before she became indifferent and ignored me. All the showers on either side were filled with her red print dress and her lipstick. She stood in all of them at once as in a hall of mirrors. Elsewhere in the house the lights flashed and the fans whirred as I stepped past. The assassin was there. I saw his face.
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