I hate myself for doing this, walking to the corner of the street where she lived, standing in line for a film I have no intention of watching. People say, "How is.," then they stop and change the subject. Her sock turns up unexpectedly in the wash. Her eyelash curler appears in my washbag. Raincoat on (hers), I walk all the way to the bus shelter where she first touched me properly. Now
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