Angie awoke to beauty. Consciousness returned quickly, far faster than remembrance of her predicament. Before she opened her eyes, she felt a cool breath of air on her face. It was welcome after the swelter of the city. The sounds of the metropolis were also gone, replaced by birdsong and wind. She smelled earth and pine trees.
Angie cracked her eyelids slowly, and noticed she was sitting in a rocking chair. It was covered in white paint that was badly chipped. She was on a wooden porch, some of the boards badly warped. In the near distance was a line of trees that might have been spruce and pine. Beyond that, she could see rolling mountains, and a cloudless sky so blue it didn’t look real.
Angie didn’t want any of this to be real.
It all came back to her...
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