short, sorry. def one I want to go back to laterwander_freeOctober 28 2007, 04:53:04 UTC
His mother had named him Angelo, declaring at her first sight of him that he was going to have a close relationship with god. Staring at his lover, Angelo hoped his mother never discovered the exact nature of that relationship.
It had started off innocuously enough, even the stalking had seemed like the proper thing to do at the time. Ever since he had seen her coming out of an apartment building in Long Island, Angelo had been compelled to get closer to the tall, effervescent redhead. There was something so tempting about the way she moved, with such grace, the way her hair swayed in the breeze, the way she laughed, like there was nothing wrong with the world and the way she smiled, as if all she saw had been put there to bring her pleasure and she delighted in all of it.
Before seeing Irene, his goal had always been to know god; after seeing Irene, his goal had become to get as close as possible to the mysterious, ineffable Irene. He knew that both goals were now the same goal.
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It had started off innocuously enough, even the stalking had seemed like the proper thing to do at the time. Ever since he had seen her coming out of an apartment building in Long Island, Angelo had been compelled to get closer to the tall, effervescent redhead. There was something so tempting about the way she moved, with such grace, the way her hair swayed in the breeze, the way she laughed, like there was nothing wrong with the world and the way she smiled, as if all she saw had been put there to bring her pleasure and she delighted in all of it.
Before seeing Irene, his goal had always been to know god; after seeing Irene, his goal had become to get as close as possible to the mysterious, ineffable Irene. He knew that both goals were now the same goal.
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