She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. People running, screaming, hiding. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Pray, walk in. .
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