Eventually she completely forgot what she was looking for. Sometimes she felt a phantom beat, when she heard a familiar tune or a line, or held a small child or an animal, or stood on the edge of the ocean with the waves kissing her toes. Then the beat would fade, and she would be alone again in the deafening silence – alone in the streets, alone in the borrowed bed, alone in another’s arms, alone tangled up in another’s bones




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