The lady lay there as the winter breeze beat against the window of her cottage, her son was sleeping in his room. The other side of the bed cold and she was reminded of the fact that she was indeed alone. When she was younger she had a small string of lovers in the beginning. It was a dance, a game. But the girl inside had hoped for her happily ever after in one of them. But the woman, the woman that she now became thoroughly doubted that there ever would be that ever after.
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((Audun))
