| .:�I ran, then, out the door and down the stairs to the outside of the building. It was like I could still see him, burning. Oh, lord,� she stopped and groaned, pushing her hands over her face, her cigarette still between her fingers, �Lord, how I loved it. It�s wrong of me, oh, I know it is. I couldn�t help it though. He deserved it. I got into my car and drove away. I drove and drove until I collapsed behind the steering wheel. I changed my name, my hair, got colored contacts, had both a nose job and a boob job. I always hated my nose. I think he did, too.�:. |
