[Now that Siffrin has brought the paper airplane all the way back and set it down so the two are together, Andrew picks up the bird. She lets it go loosely, giving it a gentle push into the stagnant air, to see if it'll fly as well.]
[There's something final about them, something very past-tense. She intends to leave it and not return to it.]
I much prefer the bird. [And she will go to pick that one up, strangely enough, if only because it positions her to leave the room soon.] Thank you for your apology gift. Don't make me another.
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...)
The answer is quiet and idle, said with a smile. Like it doesn't matter when it really, really does. ]
Not really.
[ (An uplifting breeze is different than an unrelenting gale, after all.) ]
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Neither am I. [She says, also like it doesn't.
Had Tia ever once...also felt this way?]
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... Some people are more like sails.
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[There's something final about them, something very past-tense. She intends to leave it and not return to it.]
I much prefer the bird. [And she will go to pick that one up, strangely enough, if only because it positions her to leave the room soon.] Thank you for your apology gift. Don't make me another.
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[ The plane to them, then... Maybe they'll unfold it and make something new in time. ]
It's nice talking to you.