Paradise: the year is 1954 and I am 18 and she is 19 and a redhead with long legs and a kiss-me smile. We are walking hand-in-hand around Washington Square Park on a coolish fall afternoon. We stop to put a quarter (a lot of money then) in a street musician's can. I look over at her, and she smiles. "I love you," she says. Not long after that we marry and then our son is born. Paradise on earth. (She died in 2003).
2007-05-24
04:28:03
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