Those words kept hounding my memories, running through my head. I think about it before I go to sleep, I think about it when I wake up in the morning, I don’t want to think about it but images just keep flashing through my mind.

She lost it this time. She knows what she must do. Can she do it? She doesn’t care what he thinks of her. She must keep her focus. She really hopes she’s exchanging all these for happiness.

Not hers.

If you miss the train I’m on, you will know that I am gone.
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.

l’amour toujours;
clarice