‘They think about it, sometimes. Once, even, at the same time, when a song they'd liked plays over the credits of a film they both see, and it leaves them warm, and half-sad, and reflective.
But they are themselves. Full of spaces that don't need to be filled, imprints in the mattress and the carpets of the houses they no longer live in, getting on in ways they had wanted.’
This book is so bloody beautiful
— Aug 23, 2024 10:15AM
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