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Which I laid down in, snuggled into the blankets, closed my eyes, and laid there pretending that I wasn’t bothered by the idea that we needed to pretend to sleep in order to actually sleep.
For real!
“Well,” I said, “that certainly plants an unpleasant pickle in my night.”
Obviously, the creature was in its death throes, and so it throe’d me right off. I tumbled across the stand into a goopy pile.
champagne coupe.
