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The woman drifted past me like a specter but I wasn't drunk and I knew that she was real. As I looked, she turned round, came back and stood in front of me just like you now.
October 19, 2009
The woman at the side of the serious writer is devoted to his cause, which he never clearly articulated to her. She is tall, but not too tall, a blonde who could, in the right light, be taken for a brunette. She has a black bushel of strong, willful pubic hair.
April 8, 2010
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