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Cool Hand Fluke

One year passed: Old flames rekindle. Is this some sort of a twisted joke? On the dark, freezing twilight she swerves on the highway. Immediately an impulse to attack. Her head tilts to my view. Attack me, no, she thinks, I know him! Wha-- It's you! Smiles illuminated the space. Fruitful hi's and hello's. Usual. Bit shaken, I am. Can't tell if it's from the weather or the suddenness of it all. She's still as sparkling as carbonated water as ever. Love. Not again. I kicked my ass awake. Listen, she speaks, and speaks a whole lot. She's happy. Then a broken smile. Not totally happy, I guess. That's good. There's room to fill the gap. That's my take anyway. We speak and speak, I could speak with her the night away. For me the smile was enough. Her awkward voice, not to mention. Oh miss it, dearly do I.

Then we went our separate ways. Love burning? No idea. Lost my purchases in the tube station. Dark Souls. Fuck it. Fuck it all. Ruined the mood. Butterflies in my stomach. Is this it? My fingers start to shake. Why? Why is it like this? Retarded, you are. I want to sleep with a lullaby. But I'm scared.

Was it only just a fluke?

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