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February 14, 2015
fiction: He arrived with his little girl for art night. He molded the hard clay with his strong hands while she decoupaged a heart shaped box. We talked, while attending to our separate tasks. One of his expressions cut to my heart. I felt it open to the possibility of coupling. Bewildering! That wall had been bricked over, layer upon layer as a default pastime project. The next time he visited, my heart skipped a beat and I had to pretend normalcy. My mind was swimming with weird fantasies of serving him wine on the patio; both of us smiling.