As for Alexia, she is still out there on the midnight highway. You will know her by the sound. Not a roar. A purr . And if you flash your brights at her, she will slow down. She will roll down her window.
The cold came first. Not the cold of winter, but the cold of the operating table. The cold of the morgue drawer. Alexia lay on the linoleum of the garage, her scarred skull humming against the concrete. The titanium plate the surgeons had screwed into her cranium years ago was no longer a foreign body. It had grown hungry. titanium pelicula
She touched her temple. The metal was warm now. Pliant. As for Alexia, she is still out there
The car shivered .