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Of memories and photographs
Of memories and photographs

“Isn’t that your ex-fiancé?” asked my friend looking at a glossy, landscape, hardcopy photograph of Mr. X and myself in our glory days. “Yes,” I casually answered, pretending not to remark the insinuation made by her eyebrows arching far under her fringe. “And isn’t this that childhood friend of yours that dropped out of your life without a word?” she asked waving the next page in...