She was walking home from work, tired from staring at a screen that she almost missed the cute witchy shop called "Witch, pleeease".

"Oh alright I'll just pop in. It's not too close to closing time."

She went to reach for the doorknob when a window slid open in the door and someone in a skeleton mask requested "Password please?"

"Um 3Witchy5Me?"

"Oh my god you actually got it girl, come throoough"

She could hear the bubbly shopkeep say "Alohomora" muffled by the door as it swung open. Inside were candles with glitter in them and incense that smelled of...

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Once he had left it because absolutely clear that I missed him. Before he had left it wasnt so clear. Not at all. In fact, I had fully expected to breathe a sigh of relief once the door closed and I never had to look at his face again. Once it actually happened it was different. Much different.

It made no sence. Well, maybe it did. I had never been very nice. To him, I mean. The times I had snapped could be counted on my fingers. One two three four five six...

He hadn't left any of those times....

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(To read Part 3, follow this link: http://sixminutestory.com/stories/somewhere-better-part-3.)

"Choose as you please," said Someone Good. "Surrender to the breeze, or fight for control. Which do you value: predictability, or potential. The known and the now, or the unknown, the good?"

As the air whipped in gusts around her, gripping her, twisting her, she struggled. Within herself, she wrestled for a choice. Would she allow herself to be carried up by these winds of change?

Somehow she knew that this was a defining moment. It was here, in the borderlands of Somewhere Better, that she could either fight her way back...

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It was supposed to have been the most attention-grabbing scenario she could place herself into. There she was, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, in her cute little dress, with her pretty hair all done up, twirling a gauzy parasol, and just oozing schoolgirl charm...

And the people around her walked on past, as if in a blur of life and busyness.

Occasionally she noticed glances from other young women, but instead of being jealous or judgmental -- two attitudes she was very familiar with and, frankly, appreciated equally -- all she received was a vague sense of disappointment....

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