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January 22, 2014
There were days that I would see her at the top of those stairs, waiting for me and the space up there was so small as we got the door open and spilled inside. More often she would be outside on the stoop there; smoking and watching the occasional car come into the lot. Even more often she would not be there at all and now it sometimes seems odd to me how we are sometimes drawn together man and woman into some elegant gasping pattern that joins us in ways that we can never be completely be torn apart.