Park
“Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like
art, and art wasn’t supposed to make you feel nice; it was supposed to make you
feel something.”
“Nothing before you counts,” he said. “And I can’t even
imagine an after.”
Eleanor
“I never said I loved you,” she thought.
How he filled her heart with love was surreal. And how she nearly
destroyed his was rather unforeseen. Then the post card came with just three
words long.
Love will tear us apart…again.
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