lunaboca ends the story
sister mary rose stood speechless in the doorway. the blinking amber
of the bar sign behind her cast a golden halo around her wimple
(which, though no longer required, was an affectation she'd assumed
for intimidation factors). a single tear dangled precariously on her
nose. elliot reached forward instinctively to wipe it away. sister
mary rose reached instinctively for the ruler, but it wasn't there--
she had loosened her grip, and it lay on the ground, and in the time
it took her to think about this, emotion moved in, as did elliot's
hand, and she turned her tired, soft cheek to follow it.
my real name, she said, is isabelle.
and she kissed him, as only an isabelle can kiss an elliot.
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Comments
thank god...the end.
By the way, people who talk in the third person only look pretentious and silly.
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