The Angle

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In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"8:04 p.m. I hope she hurries up--we have dinner reservations for 8:30. I think she's coming now. She is, and it's about time. Christ, she looks good--I guess I'll forgive her for taking so long. She's wearing her pearls--she knows that I love them on her. I don't know why, I just do. And that dress. She's wearing the dress. The blue one that drops just enough to show the beginning of the nearly invisible freckles that cover her chest. Not only can I see her coming, I can also smell her coming. It's not just her perfume, though. I mean, of course it's her perfume, but it's also the way that it smells on her. A skunk with perfume on is still a skunk. When my Faith wears this perfume, though, something happens. The aroma comes alive to give an accompaniment to her beauty and caresses the delicate sense known as smell. Most importantly, though, she's wearing the ring. The small gold band that houses two tiny birthstones-- our birthstones. She only wears it on special occasions. I guess she's afraid of ruining it or something. It's the ring I gave her for her college graduation. It's small--you can't get much with a struggling college student's budget- but I honestly believe that she cherishes it as much as, if not more than, her diamond engagement and wedding rings. I pref er it that way actually--the ring is from a time when there was nothing but us and we were too broke for anything but love. Anyway, in all honesty, with the way she looks and the way I feel, I'm not sure if we'll make it out the door. We will, though--it took me too damn long to get these dinner reservations."

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