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Lucy

They make love in the morning, for a change, ten o’clock sunlight fluid on Lucy’s back as she arches and rolls. He makes her pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse, afterward, and she tears the top sheet from his page-a-day calendar: June 87th.

“I’m afraid,” he tells her in the shower.

“Why, baby?”

“Nothing lasts forever. Even this, and when it finally ends…”

“Just live for today.” Lucy smiles, and kisses his chest. “It’ll last as long as it needs to.”

“Yeah.” He pulls her close. “Yeah.”

Meanwhile in Australia, Cliff shivers, and chatters out cuss words, and kicks his frozen horse.

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