Long afterward, many would remember those two days in the first week of October with vividness and anguish.
If you come on my property, I've got you from the second that you enter on. There's little lasers... my TVs come on in my room and fall just right on you. So, there's no way to sneak up on me. And I've got a loud dog.
Both within the family and without, our sisters hold up our mirrors: our images of who we are and of who we can dare to be.