Her antics on the escalator probably made her appear afflicted. “Don’t run,” she muttered quietly, not moving her smiling lips. It was the fakes... smile she’d ever put on her face.The girl was blonde, with short, tangled hair. She was filthy, including her bedraggled outfit, which put Rebecca in mind of animal skins. At 30 steps from the bottom, the little girl’s nerve finally broke, and she fled for the trees. “Dammit,” Rebecca muttered. She didn’t call after the child.Once at platform-level,. On the workbench and stored in boxes underneath. All of it represented a lifetime of work and home maintenance that (if my own father was any example) Frank must have valued and even treasured. It was sad to me to see how much the son didn't want of his father's possessions.For that matter, Mary was no more sentimental than her son was. My instructions were to "get rid of the whole mess". There was a supply of empty boxes and a new box of trash bags. I started working on one end of the bench. More

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