The difficulty with this conversation is that it's very different from most of the ones I've had of late. Which, as I explained, have mostly been with trees.

No day copies yesterday, no two nights will teach what bliss is in precisely the same way, with precisely the same kisses.

He was supposed to be reading, but all he could do was watch her and love her bare arms, her Alice band, her straight back, the sweet tilt of her chin as she tucked the instrument under it...

If you can’t stop the waves, go sailing.

Written By Margaret Atwood

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