She felt the road turning beneath her. It had been uneasy inside her for years, and finally she was at the split - eyes ahead, two feet on the ground. Two possible lives, hazy in the distance. She could either grip someone else hard for the rest of her days, someone who liked having her imprints embedded in their skin; or she could just let it all go. Some of the road alone, a few miles with him, a mile with someone else, maybe. Him and someone else.
I stood for a moment, quietly mourning the loss of one life.
And I let my fingers loosen.