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Chapter 20

  • Randy clawed the shingles as she worked her feet to the roof. Her hands were covered in bits of shingles. It was much worse up here than she had thought it would be. She wasn’t a roofer by any means, but if the way they looked were any indication, she needed a new roof ASAP. Double crap! she thought to herself, afraid to speak out loud. The rain felt like it was hitting her harder now that she was higher up and droplets were now running down into the jacket. Her legs were soaked, and there wasn’t a worse feeling then wet denim clinging to you.
  • She slowly managed to get to her hands and knees. A part of her wanted to look down and see just how far up she was—a very small part, but she kept her eyes on the roof next to her hands. She couldn’t crawl up the stupid thing. Taking a few shaky breaths she very, very slowly brought her feet in contact with the shingles. Now she looked like she was doing a downward dog yoga position, with her hands and feet touching the roof and her butt in the air.
  • She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bring herself to straighten up at all. Bending her knees, she squatted down and waddled farther up the roof, performing a childlike duck walk. Her foot slipped, causing her to smack down onto her stomach to stop from sliding down and off the roof. She lay there with her eyes clenched tightly, trying to slow her heart rate. The can of tar dug into her hip, but she didn’t dare move to adjust it.
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