Fio is convinced that, between her art, writing, and compositions, she will be famous and her offspring will be rich....long after she's dead.
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Everyone drove over to the family house years ago after father-in-law's funeral. The adults gathered around in the living room, and the kids got together in the back bedroom. To everyone's surprise, Fio's mother joined the kids' group. On reflection, Fio thinks she was over-awed by the in-laws' toney neighborhood and toney house. As you can imagine, Fio didn't get that gene. Remember, she's the one who thought that the royal jewels on display in the Tower of London looked tawdry.
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Fio is beloved of a mosquito. It kissed her on the cheek, then shyly flew away.
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Husband, perhpas feeling nostalgic for times gone by, put An American in Paris on the television last night. Twenty minutes later, Fio picked up La Senora de la Computadora and left the room. Too many stereotypical cheeky Americans and charming French children from Central Casting, too much singing, dancing, and blazing Technicolor. The only reason she'd stayed as long as she did was because of the non-stop action, which, as every romance writer knows, is the key to holding your audience's attention.
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Target has refurbished its dining area for the worse. It's as barren as a hospital operating room.
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