{March 17th 1988, Daniel 19, Angela 18}
Angela picks me
up. She is wearing a fur coat. I can
only imagine what is beneath the fur; perfumed imagination makes me hard.
“ I have a present
for you!”
She winks and circles
her tongue around her red lips.
“But where's my father!?”
We wipe the snow from
the window of her Eclipse. (42:365)
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