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It seems that some things are meant to happen and others never had to happen at all. Emily wonders if this is the difference between fate and choice but can only conclude that the two are so inextricably linked that it is not possible for her to tell.
Not now, not tonight anyway, not with an ocean of air outside whirling around the house, rattling windows and causing sudden vacuums with the pressure drop as air is sucked out of the rooms. This is a time for sighs and reflections, a time to recall the inner details of vitality; those whispers of memories which keep her feet warm and her head dry, all of it clinging to the dry bones of common sense.
Emily is thinking that she doesn't like it when people pick her up, use her - for whatever and then throw her away again. It seems that she has a good few so called friends who do this, some of them time after time. It seems that while she is recovering from the consequences of the last ditching some of them are sizing her up yet again for a