She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. ” He would follow with a long discourse on biology, uninvited. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way.
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