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    Summary

    You look up at him, your smile is so stupidly bright and conniving and yet so… oddly innocent and happy, he can’t find it in himself to follow his usual lines. Call it breaking fate’s fifth wall with a goddamn deus ex machina to fuck it up for him. The theater of his life has the audience silent as he simply looks down at you, your eyes still a little sleepy but still eager to poke fun at the giant bear.

    His brain flutters through the possibilities, future polaroids with both of you in Greece, the edges yellowed. Polaroids and pictures hung up on a mantelpiece and then migrated into albums with faux snakeskin bindings, plastic vellum coverings to protect physical mementos when dementia settles in.

    Your small wrinkly hand, solitaire diamond band still gleaming, in his large, wrinkly one. Two armchairs next to each other by the fireplace, albums propped on each other’s laps.

    You’re still smiling at him; his heart bleeds out pulses in watercolor.

    or:

    Miguel follows you to Greece.

    Series
    Language:
    English
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