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Dear Diary, Today I stood by the floortoceiling window of my office on the twelfth floor, watching London
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The taxi pulled up near the entrance of the club, its neon lights flickering like a dream in the midnight haze.
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“Lyudmila,” my mother-in-law said to me, standing in the doorway of our bedroom, her voice
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I thought you were respectable, and youre living in such poverty, he said, then walked off five minutes








