State Lines: strangers
 
  2.5.2007  



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›post #24
›bio: rider
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›2/5/2007
›18:35

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What to do with old love letters?
Walt.
Eleven things I used to believe.
Oh Elizabeth.
I borrowed your quasi boyfriend.
Cringeworthy.







When I was looking for a place in dc for me and my then girlfriend, a friend introduced us to a partner at his law firm who had a cute place right in dupont. The place was too small and both of our wide open spaces rebelled. The owner, I'll call him John, was charming and serious and I remember thinking I hope I make friends like him when I move up here. I was jealous of the pirate t-shirt he wore. I told him so.

after we decided not to take that place in dupont.
and after she decided not to come with me anyhow.
and after things had ended.
My friend disclosed that John has been a prime suspect in a murder case since August. Not just shoot the clerk or run over your ex-wife murder, but stabbing a good friend who slept over his house repeatedly in the heart for no apparent reason murder. John may very well be innocent. Or we may have rented an apartment from a stab you in the heart in the middle of the night murderer.

We were standing on his parquet floor on a September Saturday, yawning about where the sofa would go and which coffee shop we'd favor. and I didn't know anyone in that room.


 


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