She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. My death, probably. In the beginning it was a dictionary. “I saw his face in a mirror. “I don’t take any prisoners, John! You do not want this life!” “Yes I do! I am an adult. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. So this was what it was all about.
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