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May 22, 2007
My mouth ran a mile a minute with the recruiter, strangely uncharacteristic of me. I sat down again and began to read when my mind got distracted and peered at the watercolor on my wall depicting an abstract genie bottle: drawn in such a way it was a ribcage holding love in. The cork popped at the top like a champagne bottle, letting out the ceiling vents I acquired from Dallas, the parking lights from Tony, an endless path, a dead oak tree in front of a rising sun and a card behind the genie bottle written in illegible script.