Emma stood on the balcony with a serene smile on her slightly wrinkled face. The man beside her handed her a cup of warm coffee."Thanks, Emma. If not for you, I would have been dead by now." Fiasca stood beside Emma as both reminisced. "Don't thank me, Fiasca. You are a good man. That's why God helped you." Emma shook her head slightly."You always have your way with words." Fiasca laughed out loud."I am a businesswoman, after all." Emma shrugged her shoulder's as if it was nothing."Yeah, the iron lady." Fiasca grumbled in disdain. ****************Short poetry for my lovely readers:It is an ancient Mariner,And he stoppeth one of three.'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,And I am next of kin;The guests are met, the feast is set:May'st hear the merry din.'He holds him with his skinny hand,'There was a ship,' quoth he.'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'Eftsoons his hand dropt he.He holds h
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