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For all the times his wings have been singed, he never seems to learn. No bride, she hears herself say, but she can see from his expression that he's determined to hold onto his fantasy. Why must she always be the one to bring him back to earth? "Where's the writer?" he asks now, verification that he hasn't listened to anything she's said. "I want to speak to the writer." Just maybe, she thinks later, her toe tapping to the music, there's
something to his expectancy after all. (end)
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