She sits alone at her kitchen table. One hand casts away cigarette ashes while the other turns the final pages of her latest escape.
The knock at the door startles her. She cautiously approaches. Peering through the peephole, she sees no one. She waits a few minutes, checks again, still no sign of anyone. She nervously opens the door.
A package falls atop her slippered feet. In her paranoia, she kicks it over to reveal the return address – Salisbury Press Inc.
She bolts the three locks, lights another cigarette, opens the book and enters the only world she trusts.
Raelyn Pracht 
How sad, but a lovely story. Today, this is too true!
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