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In by Lucía on October 9, 2010 at 12:32 am

He wore a thin, fitted hoodie that he sheepishly admitted was “cozy” when his friends told him they liked it.  Safe in its comforting cloth, he lay on his back tonight, staring at the ceiling, and groaned.  He wasn’t sure if he could move, but looking back on the day behind him, he wasn’t sure he could complain.  He just wished that he wasn’t so behind on his real work.  Oh well.  He got up, and padded toward the kitchen, pausing just behind her at the sink.


A cascade of dishes tumbled clumsily out of the drying rack.



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