She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. “Are you feeling okay?” “Just fine. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be none at all if he were moved.
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