It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.
The lone lamp post of the one-street town flickered, not quite dead but definitely on its way out. Suitcase by her side, she paid no heed to the light, the street or the town. A car was coming down the street and with her arm outstretched and thumb in the air, she had a plan.
Sometimes there isn't a good answer. No matter how you try to rationalize the outcome, it doesn't make sense. And instead of an answer, you are simply left with a question. Why?
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