Through This House Seanan Mcguire Epub To Pdf ##TOP##

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The first time Elizabeth saw Annie, she had been staring a few blocks down the coast. She couldn't help it. She had been born blind, but that didn't stop her from studying the world around her. Her senses had been sharpened through the years, and soon enough she could go farther and faster than a sighted person could. She didn't need a map to know where she was, but she couldn't see the buildings or the people or the cars, and she never knew if she would hear the splash of the waves. Every time she saw Annie, she was a little more certain of where she was, but never enough to walk away. So she waited.

The second time she saw Annie, she had been deep in the ocean. Elizabeth had been swimming all day and she'd made it a habit to track her prey through the sea. There was a small school of fish that lived in the area, and her mother had taught her how to hunt for them. When the sun began to set, she pulled herself from the water and climbed back up to the beach. She waved her hands and kicked her legs, and a little beach boy came to her. He was about five years old and he took her up to his home on the cliffs. Elizabeth settled in the room at the top of the stairs. After a time, the boy's mother brought her dinner and a glass of water. She couldn't eat, but she drank, and after she had finished, she asked the boy what he would like to do.

At first, I walked in the suburbs where the well-kept houses had been built, with seaside cliffs and parkland and little causeways to the shore. The houses were pretty, with well-tended gardens and lawns that were perfect squares. The streets were straight, and long, and there were cars lining them, and buses idling on the sides. I walked along the beach until I came across some gulls; I heard their cries from far off, and when I got closer, saw them sitting on the stony ground. They were young, with yellowish bellies and stubby beaks, and they kept looking up at me, as if they expected some sort of food or favor. I scratched my hand through the dirt that stuck to my palm, and they scurried away, until they were on the other side of the road.

She knew, because she had lived through her roommate’s names. She had spent the past week, during what should have been a period of quarantine, listening to them until she was hoarse. She had been there during their phone calls with their professors, their friends, their roommates, and their mothers. She had been there on the last day of the semester, when they walked into the quad together, and their boyfriends walked out of the library. She had been there in the kitchen when they ate pizza together, and laughed and swore at the broccoli they’d eaten, and the egg they’d eaten after that. She had been there in the dorm room when they changed their underwear and the laundry was done. She had been there when they returned to their rooms after an hours-long cry session. It had been her roommate’s name, the last name of every person who had accessed that number, until the university shut it down. 827ec27edc