I sometimes feel as though I'm fencing with customers, parries and ripostes against their cynicism and bitterness.
"But they're not real butterflies, right?" he says, smiling as if he's caught me out in some desperate lie.
I smile back and shake my head, but I know my smile has a bit of an edge. "Nope," I say, "they're all real."
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One year ago: Colossus
Two years ago: Overheard at Work
Three years ago: Somebody to Talk to At The Office Party
Four years ago: Dad Jokes At The Wine Shop
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