Myra lifts her head at the sound of her partner returning home from the work. Sh!t! She thought, staring down at the charred remains of what was once an linguini alfresco. Myra could tell go where word came from, but couldn't for the life of her tell you how to make it. She sighs, staring at the nice bottle of red wine she had bought to make this night special. It looks like it was all going to end like the pasta
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