Friday, April 12, 2013

Lock it Up in the Memory Vault

"We should cut over to Eighth," Katie says on our way to dance class.

"Oh, right," I say, having forgotten, yet again, the address of those rehearsal studios, even though we used to go there almost every day for auditions. "Why can I never remember that?"

"You have a block about that place, because it's where you go to feel uncoordinated and old."

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