120.
Unable to keep herself contained in her tiny new apartment, she had ventured outside at 1:20am.
She walked 120 steps, paused, and looked up. She saw nothing but a great, expanding blackness. She continued walking.
She counted 120 parked cars, paused, and looked around. She saw nothing but a few quiet passersby enjoying the night air. She continued walking.
She counted 120 shallow breaths, paused, and looked inside of herself. She saw nothing but a wounded heart and an empty stomach.
120.
The number of miles from New York to Scranton.
(She’d MapQuested it.)
120 days away from Jim.