my_wife
oren Has freckles.

I_love her freckles.
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dipperwell he said, staring down with adoring genuflection. The form lay crumpled at his feet, folded into itself and motionless.

Do you remember, darling, when we went to San Francisco? We were so much happier then. He lapsed into reverie, tapping his slowly fingers against his nose.

There was no response.

You understand I had to do this, he argued suddenly. I would have saved you if you'd gotten off your dignity kick. But you lied and lied, fabricating all those horrible stories just to distract me from the truth, the honesty of you. A vain little girl, right to the bone.

He shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot.

I love you, you beautiful terrible person, I actually do. Because you've got a fiery mind and a rough heart and you are gripped by such a sadness...I'm waxing poetic.

He bent down, picked the dishcloth from the floor, and left the kitchen.
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what's it to you?
who go
blather
from