I turned 27 three days ago. Usually Socrates reminds me - I get distracted and I don't realize my birthday is passing. This year it was cars and curses. I've been repairing the body and engine of an off-roading vehicle, and the smell of the blood in the backseat the work has been engrossing. He gave me a pair of seashell earrings last year, ones
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Hello, Will. Would you like some cake?
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I wouldn't say no - I'm sure you've heard it, haven't you? That the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
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Did you know Mr. Ryves?
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[A beat too, almost disassociated]
He shared your face. He's gone now.
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Then he's fortunate. It's not often one's blessed with such a handsome visage.
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I don't think he used it to his advantage.
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Did he not? How terrible. Of course, I imagine it helps to be utterly undiscerning.
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That said, I don't know. Most people here are from a different time. It's almost funny how some things stay the same.
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