God, we suck. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. “After all, there are great things left in the world for you. ’ He smiled down at her. Bu buluşma, ikisi için başka bir dönüm noktasıydı.
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