Texting

Texting

After a long night of heavy drinking, I’d spent the night at my friend Donovan’s down in Farmington. I awoke in the afternoon, still feeling the effect of the prior night’s revelry, but the blonde I’d met at Pizza Man the night before was my first thought upon waking. “What was that girl’s name I was talking with last night,

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June 19th, Continued

“So, tell me more about Ireland,” the blonde said, lighting up another Marlboro 100 and absently flicking her foot over a crossed leg. “Do you have family there?” “Kind of,” I replied. “Hey. I just realized I don’t even know your name yet. I’m Dan.” I extended my hand. “Tina,” she replied, taking my hand in hers. It was warm

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Sparks Fly

We Meet

I was two-months divorced and fresh back from an amazing trip to Ireland, the night I met Tina. I’d gone to Farmington to visit one of my oldest friends to regale him with tales of my adventures, have a few drinks and laughs. It was a warm June evening and the sun was just setting. I met Donovan at the

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