cik ši banda ir neizsakāmi kļova
There were these pictures of friends and ex's, letters, postcards,
doodles, nothing bad - and then I found some sort of sex diary and I
went to the latest entry. It explicity detailed a recent adventure up
the park with a boy she said she had forgotten about...
And it
got worse as it went on. The dates never made sense, there were people
I had never even heard of. Eventually I had to stop reading it because
I started to feel sick. So I put everything back the way I found it,
shut the drawer and phoned you. See, I don't know what to do. I keep
having fantasies about leaving her dictaphone under the pillow or
following her when she goes to work. I've been lying about where I'm
going, just in case I can bump into her.
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