She turns down the volume on the television and sets the pint of pistachio ice cream on the table, spears the spoon into the top, and answers the phone. “Hello? This is she. How far apart are they? Ok, head on over to the hospital. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She slips her feet into sensible athletic shoes and pulls on her hooded sweatshirt, then exits her apartment and locks the door behind her. She lifts off into the sky, sparks raining onto the unswept sidewalk.

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