Sirens wail. She closes the shutters and relatches the window. Every second the airplanes draw closer; every second is a second lost. She should be rushing downstairs. She should be making for the corner of the kitchen where a little trapdoor opens into a cellar full of dust and mouse-chewed rugs and ancient trunks long unopened.
the and relatches the the airplanes draw closer; every second is a lost. should be be making for the corner of the kitchen a trapdoor opens into a cellar of dust and rugs and ancient trunks long
