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February 27, 2008
A manila envelope stuffed into my mailbox. My breathless dash back to the apartment. The kitten’s impatient howls as I elbow her aside to peel open the stubborn, sticky flap. A date stamped in purple, blurry against white printer paper.

Today I am free.

I toss aside my baggy work clothes and dress for a celebratory dinner. I dial a few numbers and bait congratulations. After dinner we will dive into our velvet nest and enjoy one another for a few fevered hours. Then I will louche up a strong measure of Marteau Classique... and write.

Tonight I am yours.