” Michelle looked away. I should have gotten out of here months ago!” She opened the passenger side and reclined in the bucket seat. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again.
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