Twenty-one, twenty-two. “Hand me the Jergens lotion, will you? How’d it go with John?” She asked. To die intestate was unforgiveably irresponsible. “Martin, you realize that I’m dating someone, don’t you?” She knew his reply before he uttered it. That was life. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. “And yet you still live, Butterfly.
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