An intimate war

Master Thesis

2007

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The first time we divorced we did it on a serviette. I arrived first. Sitting outside on the wooden deck nursing my first gin and tonic I watch you get out of your car and walk towards the restaurant. One hand brushing the chunky curls off your broad forehead. The other hovering protectively around the zip of your jeans trying not to draw attention to itself but needing to make sure that you are securely zipped in.
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