She walked angrily down the path. She heard a twig snap in the woods to her right. Turning her head, but still moving at a ferocious pace, she decided to disregard it. Perhaps that was the wrong decision but there was no other choice in her mind. Who, after all, has the authority to say what a wrong decision, if there is such a thing, is?

It was a cool night, the only light was glaring from the lampposts along the path. She pulled out a cigarette from the box in her pocket. Pulling her hair back and tying it...