’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. ” The lights sank, the prelude to the third act was beginning, the music rose and fell in crowded intimations of lovers separated—lovers separated with scars and memories between them, and the curtain went reefing up to display Tristan lying wounded on his couch and the shepherd crouching with his pipe. He was not particularly grateful for the present situation. Her small round breasts were vulnerable under her mostly nonfunctional Kmart bikini bra.
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