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"Come on." I walked outside. Really, I wasn't that 1991 pissed off. I wasn't upset or sad. I just wanted to get it over and done with. Post liquorice ice cream, you followed me and held my hand 1991 and squeezed and smiled. You looked scared and anxious and you turned to me, "Thank you, anyway." "Hey, it's going to be OK." "Yeah, I know. Yeah. It's just fuck the phenomena. Fuck the phenomena." You went inside for more liquorice ice cream. I stood outside watching the sky and remembered when we first met. Boob tube and baubles. Then 1991 you returned. Liquorice ice cream over. You looked at me and unclasped the silver locket from around your neck. Instead of handing it to me you tossed it high into the air where it wafted slowly upwards. You stepped up onto thin air. "Come on. Follow me. Let's do this together." I will follow you anywhere. And so we let ourselves go.
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