Steering clear of the rancher was going very well, she told herself. Not that she had had her resolve challenged or anything. She hadn't even seen him all day. And most importantly she hadn't thought of him.Evening was almost over, about six hours since she left the pub with her resolution set in plaque and laminated in perspex. She had spent the hours sleeping, and then waking to stream a long movie, while simultaneously on a call with her friends.Now that the movie was done, a complete flop from the last one in the franchise, and her friends were gone, she realized she had nothing much else to do. Partly, she yearned for some hustle and bustle and wished she had picked a house in town. But that thought was only for a moment. Who was she kidding, she wouldn't trade this peace and quiet for something else. She got enough hustle and bustle from the city and her apartment building, which was right in the penumbra of the metropolis. When was the last time she could hear her own breath
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