He looked around and quickly spotted Ashley. She regarded him with a mixture of detachment and curiosity. He was clearly one of the murderers who ha... attacked the village. Judging by the blood splattered on his clothes and dripping down his axe, he had already killed some of her friends or neighbors. It wouldn't really matter if he killed her now though; he'd probably just be doing her a favor anyways.He looked from her to the bloody path in the dirt and back to her. Then he walked past. At one point, Dan interrupted my drunken nonsense and asked if it was me phoning him. Shocked, I immediately denied it, repeatedly saying my name was Susan, and despite him having recognised my voice, I continued with my lewd narrative. In hindsight, I know I should have hung up immediately, but alcohol, loneliness and lust, all conspired against me. Let's face it, if I'd been able to think coherently, I wouldn't have called Dan in the first place, but I had, and there was nothing I could do to. Because remembering is one thing – but the longing to go back is too much sometimes. It makes the present unbearable – and I can’t live that way. So, for many months I have for the large part forgotten that I am a woman – a sexual creature. Because there is no sex to be had these days, and it’s all just a lot easier to be a builder, a worker, a helper, a mother, an aunt, a casual friend, a morphodite, clad in straight, loose-fitting jeans and boots and striped T-shirt (notwithstanding the firm. After her usual apprehension at takeoff all Megan could do was nervously thumb her magazine, her emotions on edge and her mind spinning. The song was playing in her head again; "Already I'm so lonesome I could cry..."another tear streaked her pretty face.She thought about the lasting friends she had made at Queen Anne's. Five of them had been fired with ambition and over drinks in the Student's Union bar, or during the occasional all-girl pub meal on a Friday evening they had confided their.
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