ARTS AND CULTURE
- Fiona Douglas
- 02 February 2011
6 Comments
She sits perfectly still, as if she has given up; happy for her end to come via a predator of any calibre. At the very least, she has lost the plot. The children and I spy on her from a distance. Then, as if a switch has been flicked, a sickening sinking feeling takes hold inside me.
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