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A Short Story : A Story?

Decent Essays
By now, the rain had abated, and the moon provided the only light in the room. They looked at each other in tacit agreement that it was time to get up. Finding his shirt, he slipped it over his head. Coming up behind her, he encircled her waist with his arms. “And where would my Koroleva like to go to dinner this evening?” She tilted her head back when she heard him say my Koroleva. Bending his head, he brushed her lips with his. At that moment he knew with certainty that the King and Queen were back in their Kingdom, order was restored to his world, love was back in his heart, and joy was back in his life. “I’ve barely eaten all week,” she said. “I’ve been so torn up about you. My appetite is restored now though. How about Indian food? I can take you to my favorite place on 6th Street.” “I love Indian food!” he replied, going to get his boots from in front of the radiator. They were still damp, but he put them on anyway. “I have sneakers in my bag, but I love these boots. I get stuck on a pair and wear them every day until they fall apart.” “I’m the same way with these boots,” she laughed, pulling hers on. “I even wear them in the summer with my dresses.” When she grabbed her denim jacket from the coat rack, he shook his head. Taking the jacket from her hands, he held it out for her to slip into. “You haven’t changed—you’re the same Victorian gentleman.” “Daniel’s right here.” Her face became emotional. “You told me I had to let Daniel Orlov die.” “That’s the paradox. I
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