he talked fast, tripripping over syllables, punctueating with teethrips from his bread roll.
you know it's time he said it's already too late, maybe, for the economy probably, or politicians in some scandal, she thinks, but she doesn't lie wakeful about that so she doesn't make the runningout about that, she makes it about the things that hide behind her eyelids. her eye. her i.
he's still talking but it's time for the runningout so she runs.
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