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March 31, 2009:

I bought her a guitar in a thrift store. Warped, unplayable except for slide.

She wanted to learn: an enthusiasm of a few weeks, like the paint sets and artist's paper I later found discarded in her drawer.

She's like a teenager that way. Enthusiastic, experimentive, a bit unfocused.

She left the guitar here for me. I play it, and think of her

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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips. All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.