She stands at the open window with the book in her hand, the light breeze rustling the pages as it does the leaves beyond the garden wall. One by one, the pages pull themselves out of the binding, and as they become caught in an up-draught they begin to see-saw their way further into the air above the green landscape beneath.
A smile curves onto her lips. She takes a visible pleasure in watching the leaves of the book being drawn from side to side, drifting just beyond her fingers’ reach, and then dissipating like a flock of deathly birds to float to the ground below. She has done all she can do here, and it is time to move on, she decides. She will make them take notice.