She was crying into her cell phone; she clutched it as if her life depended on it. “Don’t go near him,” her friend said last Wednesday, noting that he had made her cry on a couple of occasions.
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Mark continues to stare at her keyboard, the melodies of her typewriter a constant longing to finish the job.
Suddenly, a text arrived: “I miss you. Let’s try it again. ” And happiness flooded her – her heart was beating to the tune with love: maybe people can need not once love.