Columns: Tag – Break Up
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Love Factually
Sucker Love
I saw her. As I hurried along the passage to enter the room, I saw her and her alone.
The restaurant was full but it was as if nobody but Iris was there. She wore a crimson-red shawl of rich texture and her oh-so-delicate face was framed by auburn-black curls.
Her face didn’t so much light up as it was aroused in recognition of my red hat. Caveau was abuzz and we needed somewhere quieter to talk of broken wings and love lost.
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