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it’s cold Here, in Paris, it’s Cold to the Bones. they Say that a house with Good bones is a Really strong House. that’s not what I mean. we’re talking About different types of Bones. i just mean That it’s cold. now give Me a drag of that Cigarette. since when do You smoke? when in Rome, i’m in Paris.
do you Miss your husband when you’re Away? of course I do. but Distance makes the Heart etc. i miss Your husband too. he Makes things easier. don’t say things like That, it’s weird. things are Weird enough Already. do you Ever think What If? Don’t you fucking what if me, now of all Times, and here of all Places. Honestly sometimes i think We’re very Different. we’re Not that different, don’t be Dramatic. two sides of the same etc.
i don’t Really like this city. it’s Cold. come On. even a seasoned Traveler such as Yourself can surely have Her hard Heart softened by the Light that bounces off of the Seine. you’re Going to make me puke, don’t be such a Sentimentalist. go eat a Madeleine or Something.
one Last awkward Kiss, a near miss. our own Roman Question. half a Slice of a dry cake. the Nuns wept in unison while Notre Dame burned. a Lenten fast begins far Before the mouth ceases to Eat.
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