Monica is someone who likes operas. I don't know much about operas, but then Monica plays a song from an opera that I've heard before, and I tell her that I kind of like it, that it's kind of catchy. You know, I think Mozart's been on my mind lately, because Monica tells me that Mozart wrote the opera and that it's called The Magic Flute. That's nice, I say. But the song you like, Curt, is a very dark song, Monica tells me. My eyelids are kind of droopy from last night's relaxers. I am sitting on her couch. I have like zero muscles. Or maybe zero bones. She made something with lentils and it was very good. I am 100% lentils! What is the song about? I ask. It is about a mother telling her daughter to kill her father, or else. Geez, I say. That's messed up. Monica nods. We listen to the opera. It is very good, I recommend it.
There is so much to tell Monica. When do you know it's a good time to tell someone a dark and stormy past? What will Monica think about me when she learns what I've been up to in the past? Does it even matter? What if Monica has a dark and stormy past too? What if her dark and stormy past is even darker and stormier than my past? Gulp.
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