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¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¤¨¨ INSIDE ON THE FLOOR, TWO GLOWING ¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¨¤¨
¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¤¨ SQUARES OF SUNLIGHT FLOODING IN THROUGH ¤¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¨¤
¤¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¤ THE DECORATIVE WINDOWS. SLOWLY MAKING ¨¤¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¨
¨¤¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¨ THEIR WAY ACROSS THE ROOM, EVENTUALLY ¨¨¤¨¨¤¨¨¨¨
¨¨¤¨¨¨¤¨¨¨ COMING ACROSS HIS BODY. LIKE TWO ARMS ¨¨¨¤¨¨¤¨¨¨
¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¤¨¨ REACHING HIS STOMACH, AND THEN INTO HIS ¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¤¨¨
¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¤¨ RIBCAGE, GRIPPING SOMETHING THERE. ¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¤¨
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¤¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¨ FOX BODY PRESSING CLOSE. ITS EYES ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨
¨¤¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨ OPENING HIS, ASLEEP BUT STARING INTO ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¤¨
¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¨¤¨ ITS PUPILS, INTO THE SURFACE OF THE SUN. ¤¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¤
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