Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 45

I once loved a woman, a child I’m told. I give her my heart but she wanted my soul, but don’t think twice, it’s all right. — Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright, Bob Dylan

Dave stared at his phone again, reading the message from Aimee for the tenth or so time this morning. He hits the reply button and starts typing.

“I love you, Aimee…”

Clear text.

He wonders what Aimee is doing right now.

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