Friday’s Page 69 ~ Girl A by Abigail Dean
The house in Oxford was beautiful in the morning. A long rectangle of sunlight cut into my bedroom and rested on the duvet. The Islip canvas in the guestroom was a river in motion and Ana had placed it behind the bed, facing the window, so that it was hard to tell what was the effect of the pain and what was the real light in the room. I kicked off the cover and stretched into the warm day. For a moment I imagined the house was mine, and empty. I would take a book from the study and spend the morning in the garden. There would be no need to talk to anybody all day.
