Little Red Owl

Part One of Four


Charlotte and I were only going out for a month when those three short and overused words came from her mouth when we were laying on my bed after coming back from a friend’s house party.

Leaping into existence out of a content, alcohol-induced buzz, Charlotte confessed the age-old expression “I love you” and even with my deepest appreciation of her honest sincerity, nevertheless had a red flag pop up in my head. Instead of leaving it alone and responding with the same banal custom in order to continue on the crescendo of physical passion, I instead inquired as to how many times she had said that famous phrase. No, not to family or friends but in the context of her past intimate relationships. How many men in her twenty-eight year long life did she feel she honestly in the deepest meaning of the word,

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