It was just another winter morning. She had an unhurried breakfast and walked into the traffic.
She spun and fell when the first car hit. The car that followed could not stop fast enough for her not to be squelched. A mess of flesh and blood, she became elementally what she'd recently longed to be.
Incomprehension was the larger reaction until they found on her reading desk a musty copy of The Brothers Karamazov, pagemarked where the conversation between Ivan and Alyosha begins.