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You're beautiful, silly. Like an elf, a swan, the moon..."
"A pudgy elf." Angie muttered, though a smile had begun to creep up
her face.
"A divinely pudgy elf." Elaine solemnly agreed.
At that, Angie turned in Elaine's arms and pounced, tickling Elaine
mercilessly until they fell off the chair and rolled, laughing, across
the bare hardwood floor.
***
Journal Entry: April 2
Beautiful Saturday. Went walking in Grant Park today, through
downtown, down to the lakefront. Avoided the horse-faced man with the
loudspeaker - too gorgeous a day to argue theology. Impressions:
crowded streets on this first truly warm day of spring; the horses are
friendlier; even the cops are smiling; Marshall Fields has a new
display in muted sunset colors; musicians are playing everywhere.
Which brings me to him. With his white-blond hair and cobalt eyes and
tanned body. With his pathetic plucking and his ragged cut-off jeans
and long, muscled legs. I swear I could kill Elaine sometimes. The
way looks at men and smiles at them and they come chasing after
her with their tongues hanging out and their dicks panting is enough to
make any woman sick. And encourages them with that slightly
reserved Massachusetts smile and 's oak eyes laughing. Maybe Cathy
was right. Maybe you can never really trust bisexua
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