The weak spot in the aorta has blown full open, like a popped seam in a tennis ball; blood is leaking out into her chest cavity, and her circulation has faltered and slowed. Her breathing hasn't stopped entirely, but the air isn't going anywhere, and shock is gripping her.
She can hear voices up ahead, and kind laughter. But there's something else.
It's him, standing by the side of the road, with one more glass. One more toast. One for the road, and the third time seals the deal.
Well, all right.
The power thrums through her, and her hazel eyes fly open to stare unseeing at the sound-dampening tiles of the ceiling.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-04-13 08:58 am (UTC)She can hear voices up ahead, and kind laughter. But there's something else.
It's him, standing by the side of the road, with one more glass. One more toast. One for the road, and the third time seals the deal.
Well, all right.
The power thrums through her, and her hazel eyes fly open to stare unseeing at the sound-dampening tiles of the ceiling.