grateful (COUNT=1895)

i++ tea date with me myself and i @ crimson

i++ still reading the book

the hitchhiker: when he closed the door, they stared at one another through the glass, but only her outline was visible. it was the first of many times he would try to remember her face, the first of many times he would try to remember her face, the first of many times he would look for someone and not see them–search for someone whose absence defined him

the doorman: then at 2:48 a.m. on a sunday morning, she descended the carpeted stairs of a small club in NoHo and heard him playing a trumpet version of “stairway to the stars”. there was a piano, and all she had to do was get up onstage during intermission, and start to play

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