Mark called and said come to Bolago. "Why aren't you here?" I couldn't drive. Shouldn't drive. I wish I was Samantha Stevens. Wiggle my nose.
My balcony doors are open, fresh wind gusts in, it feels good. The light is brittle. Nobody is home. The party is over. The house is silent, just the noises of the day. Gusts of leaves, the sounds of the wind. A car door. A bird cheeps. A tram slides along the tracks.
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