Perhaps it was the reflection of her face in the salt shaker top that led me down the path to ultimate destruction. Or maybe it was the way she picked at the bits of chicken meat stuck between her teeth after meals?
Sometimes we woulds sit in silence for hours, staring at each others foreheads, trying to make sense of it all. It may very well have been the botched rhinoplasty job she had done in South Beach... but I think we all know that was never the case.
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