I knew she had a boyfriend. Or at least a love that she could never let go. Even tonight, even in my arms. It was a fragile love that only the ones wh... are broken to pieces understand. Such a love cannot be replaced or replicated. Just like how a thread cannot join a cloth again. She was a thread and so was I. Isolated, with the memories of something that will probably never happen again.The next day, we met for coffee and cigarettes. She confessed there that she still loves someone from her. She began to cough and dropped two of the cigarettes. Then shespat out the other three and coughed out, '[Hack]...I don't feel sogood. [Cough]...Can I go to the bathroom please?... [Hack]" Mrs. Benson held her by her arm, "No, you may not. Pick up thosecigarettes!"When Marie bent over and vomited violently on the floor in front ofher, several girls said something like, "Eew!" and "Gross!"Mrs. Benson addressed Marie, "I hope you've learned your lesson aboutsmoking. Now, when you feel better. More

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