"At six o’clock, just as she did every morning, even though it was still night, Anja shut the front door and braced herself against the unforgiving subzero, the kind of cold to put a person in shock, before descending the steps to the street. The new security light illumined her way down then clicked off parsimoniously as soon as she reached street level. It was windless and the freshly fallen night snow glittered.
As she adjusted a neck muffler inside her zipped tracksuit with oversized mittens, Anja observed the basement studio. Shutters down and lights out, as usual. Her five-thirty message had clearly failed to raise him." Read more...
