Friday, October 27, 2006

80 words without dialogue

She stood at the edge of a precipice, between one moment and the next, a sailboat named “Joy-Luck” passed on the river below. The sound of road construction filled the air. Smashing concrete. Trucks. Trucks backing up. Machinery. Along the river the three-lane highway turned to four, dust floated and swirled around her 8th floor terrace, and she realized that joy and luck never intertwine, even if the boat moving toward the distance could have taken her, at least, closer.

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