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Some things are magic. Like when she stumbles in her reply, and her voice dances, because her excitement with the conversation is palpable… and the skin round her cheeks and nose subtly change colour when she catches you admiring her… and even though her recognition breaks the spell, it’s an exquisite part of it.

It all happens in an instant, in-between ordinary things. Then again, maybe it doesn’t – not how you like to imagine. Neither of you will really know unless it’s confirmed somehow. A moment that may never have existed, with you for as long as you care to hold it.

Sure, somebody somewhere could probably quantify each side of the equation with neuroscience or biochemistry, but that doesn’t affect the quality of that moment; all of its feelings… an invocation of pure, ineffable magic.

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