“We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. 1. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. 230 Rhea sprang, teeth flashing.
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