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 RESONANCEbyAvery DeBow
RESONANCEAvery DeBowFirst Edition E-bookCopyright ©2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by anymeans, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, orotherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher,except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articlesand reviews.This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events areproducts of the author’s imagination and are solely fictitious innature. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purelycoincidental.
 
 
Chapter One
T
he metallic clang carried up through the
floorboards with repetitive insistency.Resonance ground her teeth against the sound. She flung away the snarl of covers and pushed off the mattress the movers had unceremoniously dumpedon the floor two weeks earlier. Without bothering to change out of her discountstore wifebeater and ragged sweatpants, she trudged downstairs and into theliving room, her bare feet plodding along to the rhythm of metal strikingagainst granite in a calculated offensive. She sidestepped a jumble of furniture,nudged a bound pile of gardening magazines under the coffee table, andcontinued through the dining room’s canyon of boxes and discarded bubblewrap. At the next threshold she stopped short, toes even with the strip of woodseparating the golden boards of the dining room from the chipped yellow andwhite Formica kitchen tiles.
The delineation of enemy lines 
."Good—" Her mother paused her intentionally riotous unpacking to turnher sharp-lined face first in Resonance's direction and then to the telltalenumbers on the microwave's clock –"morning."Despite the shiny lure dropped in front of her, Resonance didn't take thebait; it was too old hat. Her mother would have to be more inventive if she wanted a fight. She stepped over the invisible border, plucked openthe refrigerator door and grabbed the orange juice. Her mother's seethingnearly scorched her back. Unwilling to start the looming rage-fest with atopic as pedestrian as the location of the glasses, Resonance took achance and plunged her arm into the brimming sink, resurfacing with atumbler. After pouring juice in her freshly rinsed glass, Resonanceturned to put away the carton."You know, you could do the rest of those dishes instead of leaving themfor me." Her mother blocked her way, arms crossed over a billowingmaroon scrub shirt, a saucepan gripped in each sharp-knuckled fist."Can't I even have breakfast, first?" Resonance reached around hermother, slamming the carton back in the fridge."Is that what you call it?" Sarcasm edged her mother's voice. "Eventhough it's almost noon?""What do you want from me?"
Notes
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