Having accomplished so much in the last few hours since her escape from the hospital, Estelle wanted the proverbial pat on the back. She was basking in her freedom and there didn’t seem to be enough kudos acknowledging it. Her grin broadening into a smile for a few seconds, she thought of the driver of the food truck, Bob, Ben, Bill…ha…Bozo, she thought, recalling his thin face.
“What a Bozo. I would never have anything to do with some asshole who drives a truck.”
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