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"Natalie's a Russian." He was pulling her up from the chair, spinning her around wildly. "Doesn't she remind you of Anna Karenina?"... When I took hold of her small white hand it felt spooky, like a skinned bird.
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A bride, dressed in white gown and flowing veil, totters in high heels down the uneven pavement past Simone’s Café. She holds a bouquet of red and orange chrysanthemums. Three men, wearing black tuxes, accompany her; one of them holds up the hem of her dr
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My senses are engaged in the moment;
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