— Was that prenuptial or post-coital smooching?
— Is your bullshit congenital?
— Do you believe in miracles?
— Not today.
She can't relate to other people. She was always a lonely child.
September 28th 1997. It is exactly 11am. At the funfair, near the ghost train, the marshmallow twister is twisting. Meanwhile, on a bench in Villette Square, Felix Lerbier learns there are more links in his brain than atoms in the universe. Meanwhile, at the Sacre Cœur, the nuns are practicing their backhand. The temperature is 24°C, humidity 70%, atmospheric pressure 999 millibars.
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