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I saw Sallie again today. Same eyes, nose, mouth, chin, jaw … Same grin. Different hair but it was from a bottle. Close enough for a momentary chill.

Thirty five or so years back the girl in the checkout queue would have known who she resembled. Sallie was a TV star then. She was again about five years later. Posthumously.

I remember what she looked like and I still see her sometimes. I don’t remember what Frenchy looked like. I remember Alex Dimitriades instead. I remember Frenchy was a cunt. Still …

I wonder if anyone but Sallie cared. I think E did. A little. Some were embarrassed at how easy it was.

I don’t know who killed Sallie. I doubt it was Neddy.

From → autobiography

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