Shuey’s voice rang out with enthusiasm, with a touch of... was it willingness to make things better? Hope? Shira couldn’t quite make it out, but it was something good, something that made the booming zeman simchaseinu ring clear and true,Teen Fiction: Clouds of Protection,Shuey’s voice rang out with enthusiasm, with a touch of... was it willingness to make things better? Hope? Shira couldn’t quite make it out, but it was something good, something that made the booming zeman simchaseinu ring clear and true
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Where is that sister of mine?
Potato peelings everywhere piled at threatening angles like mini Towers of Pisa. And utility bills and flyers for jumble sales and last month’s mayoral elections and someone’s Chumash notes. And Branflakes — soggy gooey Branflakes from yesterday’s breakfast…
“Elana where are you?” Shira called above the roar of the mixer.
“I’m upstairs.” The reply is made faint by another noisy machine.
Is that the blow-dryer on upstairs? Is Elana really blowing her hair while I’m slaving down here? I can’t pull this off alone I need help now! Where is my sister when I need her?
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