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One More Question
She had been beautiful once and we sat at the bar drinking bloody mary's on a listless august afternoon her movements lacked the grace they once possessed and something was missing from her smile she wore her 26 years like a coat she had since grown tired of she had green eyes honest laughter and a firm belief in nothing much at all I understood her more than I understood most people she exhaled long and slow and we both watched the smoke snake about the air in front of us and she turned to me and said, god, Bill, what am I going to do with myself? It's was 3 o'clock on a monday afternoon and here was one more question I didn't have an answer for. |