As the smoke filled her lungs she sat there pondering it all. There were too many elements to factor in, making a decision was a daunting task all on its own. The stakes were higher than ever, perhaps a shot at real happiness. She knew she was staring down a great unknown.
She rocked her head back, exhaling a thick white cloud. Bringing the cool glass again to her lips she sparked it and relished the fragrant smoke rolling under her tongue. There was a simple peace in the ritual she adopted. It wasn’t anything near what she needed to fully distract her from the shambles her life was truly in, but it was something in which she held control of the outcome.
Choice, choices. What are the decisions, which are so troubling? What was she so afraid of? All of the same things as anybody, with an element of self propelled misery and lack of boundaries. Any door could be opened with the right coaxing. There’s this thing about doors, though. Once you open them you have to face whatever is on the other side.
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I would consider owning a bird again if I could have one of these
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