Her psychosis was so drawn out it had taken on an invisible quality – a deceptive, deathly subtlety.
Its stringy, sucking tentacles had enveloped her mind so slowly and so long ago, that when her final break with reality did come, it was simply the lifeless conclusion to an astoundingly logical existence.
She was the last fleck of milky pink paint on an otherwise smooth steel handrail, teeming with a million invisible bacterium. Just waiting to be picked off.
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