Mostly I just wanted to get out of Charlotte's place, away from all the oppressive tension that had built up. So after about thirty minutes I started ...p the truck again and went for a drive. It felt like the longest drive of my life.I drove around thinking about everything that had happened to us, from the first day we'd been paired up in English Composition class, until last night at the party. Part of me really wanted to hate Charlotte, for a while there. Part of me wanted to blame her for. . jismai unke mumme aur pichwada bahut he acche lag rahe the aur thoda sa pate bhi dikh raha tha.. kaam kam hone ki wajah se aunty mere saath baate kar rahi thi… par meri nazar baar-baar unke mummo par ja rahi thi…shayad unko bhi iss baat ka pata chal gaya tha.Humne raat ko restaurant band kiya aur aunty ji mujhe drop karke apne ghar chali gayi.Agle din unhone kurta type ka top pehna tha jismai unki cleavage saaf dikh rahi thi.Meri nazar phir se unke mummo par chali gayi.Kuch customers ko khana. It made me think, though. Tim was going to eventually die at the age of fifty-eight of a massive heart attack caused by a coronary thrombosis. A fat plaque was going to block one of the arteries in his heart and drop him like a stone. What if I could somehow get him taking better care of himself, lose a pound or two? Would that make him live longer? It was working with Marilyn, who was in much better shape now than in our first life. Tim Russert was too good a journalist and too good a man to. To my immense distaste, I feel almost as empty as I had this morning. I lay back onto the bed, covering my eyes with my forearm, as I cry. I must’ve fallen asleep, and I wake up to look for my phone. I need to know what time it is. I finally find the phone, and I am floored by what I see. It is four in the morning, and I don’t have any missed calls. Shawna really left. I dial her number, but quickly hang up before it even rings. I don’t know what her problem is, but I should let her work it out.
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