Just found out I wrote twice as much as I should have. Now I have to call, a voice and no face, no way to see thoughts. The switchboard operator drawled like molasses crossed with Mountain Dew,
call back around ten, she said. Give or take the two hours to the midwest, I'll be in class. I want this like I can't even think about not getting it. I twitch and smile and lie, but I want it like I'd bankrupt myself without a second thought.
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