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It was T-shirt weather all day, but after dark the air turns cold, so she carries her autumn comforter to the laundromat in the alley where she lived at twenty-five. That is where she used to run into him on Thursday nights. Whenever she sat beside him there was a nice smell, and after she lent him her denim jacket on the first cold night, he wore it every Thursday that autumn. She has not worn it once since she got it back. Tonight it is at the bottom of the comforter bag.

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