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The Lovers |
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The lovers were given the freedom of the lake. Tuna sandwiches accompanied them in a wicker basket. A very nice Beaune sang along. The sundress exposed her shoulders in a most fetching light. His way of being clever in a monogrammed shirt flared up once they pushed off. The sky was without a single lawyer in sight. Several regiments of birds formed just beyond the crest of a hill, ready to start appearing when called. Their parents and friends suspected nothing. The lovers had attended a seminar in cunning. They paddled around the perimeter of the lake, enjoying the intimations of horizons limited but not foreclosed. Tragedy and comedy often vie for space on the same bill, represented by bad luck and a slippery floor. Her ukulele playing came as a complete surprise, nearly drowning out his gurgling sounds. A tree fell in the forest. Everything else was dressed in black. |
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