Michael Biehn Archive

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Morning sickness started to give her a pretty felt. She began to have enough. "When will it end?" - she thought, feeling the upcoming new series of torsion. Covering the mouth with her hand she threw a rush towards the nearest restaurant. Just at the doorshe collided with a man in a gray coat. Throwing blurred "Sorry, " she rushed to the toilet.

When she came out she was all pale and matted hair fell to her face. She staggered like a drunk. A woman in her condition should stay at home. But she was still on the road. At first she just wanted to leave LA, leave a space, which recalled the memories.

But distance was no problem. Pain, like a thorn lay in her deeply, and rightfully wound still bleeding. So she rode further never pausing for a long time, eschewing the people and their affairs. Any further. Just forward. She did not know where she is going. She had to rethink so many things, so many things planned. Sometimes she had the impression that she starts freaking out.

She walked unsteadily to the nearest table and she fell heavily into a chair. Must get some rest. Maybe she should stay here some while? Then she moves on. When the world stopped spinning in her head at last, she ordered a coffee and some breakfast.

She looked around. It was still early, so except her, in the room sat just any one couple. A woman talked about something, and the man just shook his head from time to time. He sat with his back, so Sarah did not see his face. She noted only a gray coat passed by the chair.

Sarah felt stupid. Maybe she should come and apologize for her rude behavior? After all she can not completely isolate from the people. She improved her hair, smoothed her clothes, and she went to a neighboring table.

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