Just "bumped off", but she's free in the tallying song of her soul... "Apiolada", this is how the thread of society weaves its social fabric rules, how it's judging and recomposing its members, creating an interwoven skein. "Apiolada" with the blood burning in her fingers, oh! I really like this word. As a good philologist, I know that there should be no prejudices in the language, there's nothing right or wrong, just appropriate or inappropriate. Words are neutral, some are not better articulated, nor created with more beauty than others. It's not true. However, "apiolada" seems like a sublime combination, full of purity. Without conveying at all its meaning.

Who has not built a toy train, being a child? The sections of railway,  some of them straight and others curvy, creating together a somehow beautiful ellipse. Society is like a train that goes around its railway again and again, crazy, with utmost bravery and always concerned about the same aspects, without realizing that in each curve returns to its dejà-vu way, without any expectations of being able to go further, to transit through other views not before traveled, forgotten or despised. All the scenes of life, trackless seas.

If you do not get on that train, full of people, you're meaningless. One could be a fallen tree during a storm that immediately gets out of the railway. One could even be a naughty rotten because of humidity, which is not wanted. Or an inappropriate and annoying landslide. The haughty social train turns and turns, on itself, enraptured in its gears, undulating round its narrow world, believing itself boastly arriving in the only way of the truth.

Finally, but most important, it does not know the train, which can also be… derailed, with both purpose and pep.