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CHAPTER 11

OLIVIA.

I thought we had died, but the dead people do not breathe, especially not like this.

I don't think they (dead people) get tired either, and even less enjoy these precious acts; with all the respect that the afterlife deserves.

I hugged Carl, I rubbed his back supporting the weight of his anatomy, sweeping the sweat with my palms, or maybe pouring more. Or maybe soaking that ground with drops that seemed not to dry.

I wanted to talk, to tell him everything he had made me feel, but how to do it with my throat closed and tired? I could hardly breathe, Carl took all my breath away.

"You are absolutely beautiful..." I remembered his words, the way he released them. That man had arrived that night with problems, something had happened in his life before our date and I felt committed to making him forget all the negative. If we were to remain casual, at least as the occasion, I would have to be the good thing.

He stood up, got off of me, and giving me a few kisses, lay down next to m
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