She pushes him away: No Robert please. Flies buzz around the light. She straightens out her dress; She feels alive. But they can see the drapes sway and the silhouette of shapes moving away and they can hear a girl sing to the phonograph. For fifty years he has remembered this and drunk tonight he feels her leg. She stops him and begs him to come back. Her hair was so soft he says and laughs.
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Warren Wedin firstname.lastname@example.org