
She huddles under her worn blanket in the dark under the bridge bewildered at her plight as the snow falls gently. The opportunity to finally sit back and watch the snow is amazing but she must stay aware. She can hear the muffled laughter of the drunks further down the street and hopes she will remain unnoticed as they pass.
She had crept quietly away from what they called home and walked miles doing her best to not be noticed although she doubted anyone would look for her. She found a box and a raggedy plastic sheet as she came into town. In this bleak corner in the dark she would begin to fashion a new home . . at least for tonight. Careful to remain perfectly silent (so as not to alert anyone to her whereabouts) she sets the box as far under the bridge as she can. Then she covers it with the plastic hoping to keep out the snow, cold and damp. Looking around warily she climbs inside but a shiver escapes as she settles on the floor and draws the blanket around her. Drawing the blanket closer a whiff of that awful basement makes her shake.
She closes her eyes and begins to pray .
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