print and mail to someone you love, or someone you hate. 

(words by Jane)

I went back a few times after Bambi left, but eventually I just stopped going. The other girls were nice–sure, one of them even smelled the way I liked, and if I closed my eyes and pictured her face, for a minute it was almost the same. They’d already raised the price of beer by a dollar and I’d heard talk about a change in ownership. Maybe Bambi knew something the rest of us didn’t. Maybe that’s why she went away in the first place.

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