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Forty

Everyday, Leeza sits at her window waiting for something to happen. She sees squirrels, cheeks full with food, zipping up and down trees. She gazes at chatty women getting in their power walks while strolling their babies. She even spots a dilapidated car whizzing by so fast that its parts tumble onto pavement. Leeza is waiting for something to happen. And while she waits, things are happening. Just not in anything she sees.