Tagged: frame narrative
Paulette said it was pigeons at first. That scratching under the sash window at two in the morning, claws on lead flashing, the kind of sound you get used to in old terraces. She told me this over…
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Paulette said it was pigeons at first. That scratching under the sash window at two in the morning, claws on lead flashing, the kind of sound you get used to in old terraces. She told me this over…
