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But memory and time aren’t friends. They reject each other, they hurry in opposite directions, pulling the binding taut between them, threatening to snap. They fight, and we inexplicably lose. Memory and time. Always losing one as you go on with the other.
It’s almost funny how much people will say in front of a woman they only view as a possession.
“Yes, if all goes well, she’ll have my name. But you have my love, Precious.” And what’s a ring when you have a heart?
