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By bookthief, Concord, MA

Marisa: What - Thomas! You can't possibly -
Thomas: I don't even know what you mean anymore! This is getting out of hand!
Marisa: I'm not even going to pretend to know what you're talking about!
Thomas: It's not fun, Marisa, even if it ever was, this whole fling -
Marisa: How could you? You--
Thomas: Stop. We can't - we can't do this anymore.
Marisa. You're right. We can't. (Stepping forwards; Thomas remains frozen) It wasn't always like this. We used to be - we used to be something. I don't even know--
Thomas: Don't pretend, Marisa. (He walks over to the desk, sits down).
Marisa: Don't pretend? That's where it started, I suppose. It was us and it wasn't - we were in Central Park and we were laughing and a musician was playing his guitar and we started dancing - and I reached for the skirt of my imaginary ballgown and he said --

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