Today I ate spaghetti with butter.
The same that I had prepared for you tonight I've waited in the car downstairs for twenty minutes because I had run the trick, then we did not find any empty seat and then he has gone from you, in that flat tiny without even the light, with only a lamp and the warmth of a street lamp that passed through the window.
So I put in more of the vinyl record player and I lowered the blinds. From a draft could smell ferrous make fun of my winter chapped nostrils. I had lunch.
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