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Knives
Friday. 6.7.19 2:57 am
On the way home:
He sings along to the worst radio music. It is bad. I'm totally swooning. Getting back to our home city feels like a letdown.

On the beach:
We take nearly-identical scowling candids of each other, which we'll later send to each other, which will make me deeply proud of (sort of) choosing him. We also take our first couple photos (they're OK). We brought barely a thing with us, but I really don't mind, because I get to hang out with him all day.

He picks up shells for both of us. I don't need a shell to remember this particular trip.

In bed:
I wake up and we're both piled onto one side of the huge bed, sleeping closely together. He's snoring (quietly). It's endearing. He hates it.

On the walk:
11 becomes midnight becomes 1 becomes nearly 2. We watch a thunderstorm across the bay; you can't hear the thunder, but the lightning is clear as day. He tells me he loves me. I feel like the bay and the thunderstorm, all at once. We walk in the middle of the road, because it's so late and the area is nearly deserted, and I point out all my favorite houses and restaurants while he reads plaques on the buildings.

On the ride down:
He worries about the fact that he didn't bring any music. We don't even turn on the radio; we just talk the whole way down.



The first day:
I'm wearing a red dress and my shoulders are tense as we walk into the parking garage. His hand on my hip feels like a death sentence. I walk ahead of him towards the car and he takes my hand, just pulling me back to him a little, and something in me snaps, and I'm kissing him as a person who has lived deep inside of me for too long.

She's out.

The very first day:
He walks in late and sees me there. "Who the fuck is that?" he thinks, and spends the rest of the shift saying my name and trying to flirt with a cactus. Even with all my prickly indifference, I look at him and marvel at how beautiful his eyes are. We walk back together.

The next day, I'm walking across the hall to find a knife, and find him standing there in the hall. His face drops into sheer horror when he sees me.

He has a note for me. In it is his phone number.

I go get a knife before sitting down to read it.
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