With a face languishing with a taut drawl and shimmy legs fading away in oblivion, she trundled in haste, and though no visible force held her back, her internment soul impeded her strides, for the interminable purgatory she had layered over eons would take time to erase before she could rise from the quarry she was trapped, and then in a momentary trice caught in the wave of uncertainty a thin smile broke gently on her parched lips, drafting the story of her freedom from the shackles of the past
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