“I truly hope,” said Ingrid, laughing raspily, “you don’t get eaten. I would miss you. So long as you aren’t menstruating, you should be okay.”
“Jesus. What?” “They can smell the blood from a mile away.”
Another person – someone who was so thoroughly wrapped up it was impossible to tell who they were even if she had known them –
wished her “good luck” in a muffled far-away voice.
“We’ll be back in five hours...” Peter told her. He laughed again, and Nora hoped that meant it was a joke.
“Walk in circles to keep warm.” And then they left her, walking off over the rocky ground and disappearing into the fog.
For an hour, nothing happened. Nora walked in circles. She hopped from left foot to right foot.
The fog thinned a little and she stared out at the landscape. She wondered why she was not back in the library.
After all, this was definitely a bit shit. There were surely lives where she was sitting beside a swimming pool in the sunshine right now.
Lives where she was playing music, or lying in a warm lavender-scented bath, or having incredible third-date sex,
or reading on a beach in Mexico, or eating in a Michelin-starred restaurant, or strolling the streets of Paris,
or getting lost in Rome, or tranquilly gazing at a temple near Kyoto, or feeling the warm cocoon of a happy relationship.
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