11 October, 2009

We took the funicular up because she was feeling feverish. Inside the half-sized fridge a dish of tiramisu was waiting, “He made it with nutella,” she said. We perched on the couch eating spoonfuls. Time passed quickly. Night began to fall. Down the steps, traversing the graffiti adorned buildings, the carousel, and arriving at Abbesses, we exchanged kisses on the cheek.
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