Alone on the road an odd giddiness found her. At first she assigned it to the Bitter End Apricot Liqueur kicking in. Or the thrill of escape. She knew it was neither of those. Though she didn’t let herself acknowledge it, the part of her subconscious that reached up to put its fingertips on her conscious mind knew why the butterflies engaged in dogfights deep in her abdomen. It was the proximity of her demise. She was on her way now and nothing could stop her.
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