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Alice loved to take walks. Often proclaimed it had to do with the fundamental nature of movement, and the abstracticity of space. We knew that she liked to walk, though we seldom spoke of it. She'd walk in the rain, or sunshine, cloudy weather or storm. Most would view her peculiar past time as something odd, a dent in the otherwise perfect chasis. But those people didn't know Alice. To them, she was just another little girl. Her walks didn't make it to dinner-party conversation, and it certainly wasn't brought up on first dates. On the odd occasion it did make an appearance, people alawys asked her why. Why? For a moment she'd look at you as if she wouldn't respond, and then she'd just smile at you, the ends of her lips curling just enough for you to know she didn't have an answer. She'd like to believe that her walking stems from the fundamental nature of movement, or something about space and time and thoughts but the truth was no matter how much she thought about it, 'Because I like to' never was a suitable response.