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It was time to say "goodbye". She knew that when she left she would have to unwillingly surrender to borebom. The unbearable ennui came quicker than expected, although an ironic rush seemed to electrify her, pleasantly matching her blank mind. In that very instant, she felt that her guts might melt right out of her pussy and drip down her thighs to rest in a puddle of her own gore. She now missed the simple comfort she always felt in the driver's seat of her small car. She missed sitting there and watching the pavement unfurl beneath her tires like a ribbon of thick, black coffee. Instead today she rode a greyhound to the north. She planned to fall asleep on the bus and hoped to wake only when very far away from home. She always thought about how people fantasized about packing up all their shit and leaving for no good reason, but people never actually did that until they needed to. This was her attempt to win the race and leave her life behind, before she needed to. She had no plans.