I am alone in the house this morning. Sarah is still camping. Before she gets home I need to replace her chocolate and return to her room the book of erotic short stories. I have already cleared the livingroom of last night's debauchery: cherry stems, jar half full of motherwort tea and the Kurt and Courtney CD that I watched and did not like but kinda had a crush on the filmmaker. This evening I will stand on the water's edge and think my thoughts as Bello thinks his. Love and sticks and fashion and food. We all want the same things.

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