She walks by. I'm so distracted by my objective; I don't even notice her. But her scent is all too familiar, and memories of temptation come flooding back into my mind. My lip quivers. I pray it isn't her. I was once her prey; though the irony escapes me as it always has. I want to say something, but I can't; not after what she's done. The pain never subsided. I
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