Birthdays just ain’t the same once you get old kiddo. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. The spinsters were not kind; they were only curious because she was odd and wore a dress thirty years out of date.
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