In the past, fear of punishment kept Ann mute. “But no longer,” she said, her determination fierce. The need to expose the truth fueled her willingness to stand up and speak out. Her fellow citizens deserved to hear the facts as she saw them.
Yes, the established bureaucracy would issue a Tracker termination order as judgment for her actions. Be that as it may, if all went accordingly, Ann would meet her Maker long before the truth revealed itself. She’d die on her terms and bring them down in the resulting mayhem.
The rhythmic cadence of rain against the cabin’s tin roof invaded Ann’s inner reveries, pulling her back toward reality. Refocused, she brushed the cat from her lap. Aided by her cane, she heaved to her feet. She stood on her spindly
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When she set the teakettle on the stove, he pranced across the seasoned planked floor. With a quick head-butt, he rubbed his forehead against Ann’s leg, thinking it was dinnertime.
Hunched forward, Ann patted the cat’s head. “Sam, what do you think?”
The cat meowed in answer, flopped to the floor, bored with the one-sided conversation.
Ann’s soft chuckle filled the warm cocoon of her kitchen. “I agree with you, wholeheartedly.”
Some may consider an old woman feeble for talking to her cat. For Ann, it’s natural. For some unknown reason, she identifies with her pet. When that sense of aloneness returns, his approving meow gives her comfort and reassurance. At the end of the day, she values her relationship with Sam.
Turning her back to the cat, Ann opened the cupboard, unable to decide what flavor of tea she favored. Given the task ahead of her, tea was the least of her decisions. She had details to finalize, mental notes to transcribe. So many images and sensations flashed through her consciousness that she needed to organize them before committing events to