She whispers into the recorder hurriedly, her voice rasping in the autumn wind. Leaves scatter on the concrete and mask her words but echo her voice in the air. A finger reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear without thought. Her eyes are wide, afraid. Her thoughts stop and start, but are recorded in the tiny digital recorder. 2007-07-02T05:12:50Z http://ficlets.com/feed/story/4695 <p>interesting ending&#8230;</p> http://ficlets.com/stories/4695?basename=3926 2007-07-02T05:12:50Z khepa http://ficlets.com/authors/khepa