Now, in
the coffin quiet of the morning, the bedroom looked and sounded like every
other bedroom in every other house on every other street in the Westchester
Acres “plan” where Jack and Maggie lived. The room smelled of new carpet and
Lemon Pledge and some kind of air freshener plugged into an outlet behind the
door. As Jack’s eyes began to clear, it occurred to him that everything in the
room was basically the same color–some variation of beige. Sometimes, Jack felt
like he was trapped inside a loaf of whole wheat bread.
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