War. Criminals. Theft. Violence. These things could not settle in his mind. As soon as they floated in they flew out. His thoughts were too preoccupied with positive, nostalgic memories. He felt no more sadness, anger, frustration towards the world. The only concept that could attract these ideas to his head is the same one which invokes passion, determination, hope into his heart. His love was an oxymoron. Numbing him to the world yet causing so much strife within himself, within his ideas of romance.. of Rome. The only thing that had any significance in his life lived a thousand...

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The coffee was cold now, but she sipped it anyway, imagining the heat. She blew away non-existent steam and let the rain soak her skin. She had been sitting in the same seat for over an hour, waiting, waiting, waiting. There was still a part of her that hoped he was going to turn up. But most of her knew that he would not. The coffee she had bought for him was opposite her, and she watched the thin raindrops falling into it, making holes in the disappearing foam.

He had never told her that he would be here. They...

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Silent minutes ticked by. Neither of them spoke.

The wind gusted and Eloise pulled her coat closed. Daphne closed her eyes and sighed.

"Do you have any cigarettes?" said Eloise.

Daphne shook her head.

The dress, the hats, the purse - such a pitiful display. Not even any shoes. Before the war, Mme. Rocharde would have been laughed out of Paris for such a thin broth as this.

Now, though, when even this little rag of a dress was eight weeks wages....

Their shift at the factory started soon, but the sisters spent a few more minutes looking in the...

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"But do you love me?"

Love? What is love? Love is a social construct. Love is an excuse to screw someone you think is hot. Love is a joke, a trap, an illusion. Love is what you wish for when you don't know how the world really works.

I see your skin and I think of you naked, wish for you to fall into my arms so I can possess you. Part of me wants you now, part of me wants you always.

There's only a limited extent to which these parts overlap.

Lust after you, to be sure. Like...

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I wanted to give him everything I had. He was my love, and I knew, at long last, what I wanted out of life.

I wanted him.

Foolishness, of course. We couldn't have been more different if we had been created that way. Still, I tried. Someone once told me that you should always reach for the stars. Whether you catch one or not, at least you will have risen above the mud for a while.

That's why I ran for Congress, because I thought that was where my destiny lay. When the corruption scandal was laid at my feet,...

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