Does the title field show up?

The Novel, part one

She walked forward, onward--away. The sun was somewhere behind her, to the left, maybe to the right. She wasn't thinking about that, or about the unlikelihood of filling the journey ahead of her with the right events, or of balancing the mental fatigue against the physical. She felt the expanse of roads rippling out before her, and she was filled with a ragged determination--to continue moving. She felt that the space created by each step between her and her old life was soft like a cushion, and yet as propulsive as a firm kick to a large rubber ball. She heard an approaching car, and this was the first signal that she was far enough out of town to notice the car as a separate part of the landscape. She remembered to stick out her thumb, just in time.


there were many rides, between that first one and the one which landed her in the right location--which she hadn't known was right until she arrived.

The way that loving him had shaped her seemed to be wearing off her, like the finger prints left in a squishy stress ball. She was resuming her former shape, and it felt as right as breathing--and as necessary.