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I only managed a single bite, before I passed it on. We passed so many things on then– wine and weed and one another. I think we thought it noble. No one knew the name of that exquisite cheese. Wealthy parents had sent it from France and the package was as forgotten as yesterday’s friendships. But that single taste stayed with me, it seems, although in those days, we had no trouble parting with anything. I felt it was my taste of the highlife. A sliver of the very best. Have you lived the highlife? Every whim attended with silence and precision. We thought in our innocence that we would change the world. Perhaps, we have. But, I thought we’d make it better. I searched for that odd talisman while cobbling a life I seemed barely involved in. But, I had no name and my description matched a hundred different cheeses. And anyway, why would you care? Why should anyone ever care?
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