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Marvin

They’re walking closer again. Marvin notices this once in a while.

“Have you been to Slipdisc?” she asks. “It’s great. Just this great indie store, really… I can take you there, yeah?”

Marvin feels electric, in his arms and shoulders, in his fingertips. Not love, he decides. Nor lust. Something else.

“It’s really good to see you,” he says.

“Yeah, it is.”

“I already said that.” His hands are in his pockets, and hers behind her back. She drops back, hops forward; he takes two Monkee-strides and falls back in step.

“It’s true.”

They’re walking closer again. Surely she notices too.

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