Hey kids!
Ineffable
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At Habermas half-day closing of my junior year I lost my faith to a flashy young madrigal singer from the eastern Azores. She taught me things you can't describe on the Internet. We prepared canteloupe rind and rapeseed souffles. We danced the transactional two-step. We shimmied, we shook, we drank until the world threw up.
Some weeks later I awoke solo in a Murphy bed lashed to the rear of a P.I.E. truck on the Denver to Choptank, Maryland run.
The course of my future endeavors was clear.
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Loss of faith
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