One would think I had agreed to her going. Relief flooded her. I completed it according to the directions, you see, and it was a beautiful machine, a triangle sort of, with a steering column I built out of an old wheelbarrow and a hubcap. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. I wanted the magic of love.
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