*You Really Are.*
*
*> In the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge, the couple stopped to admire the
> etchings on the wall. They had only known each other for a month, but the
> student felt sure of something about his companion already. He tugged out
> the permanent marker from his backpack and started tracing a word over the
> rough exterior.
>
> *You*, he write, and caught his companion’s eye, smiling. He spoke aloud.
> “Really Are.” He looked back at the board and scribbled that too. *A
> beautiful person.*
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