Simone takes a long drag from her cigarette and carefully readjusts herself on the bed, rolling over to lie on her side. She gingerly rests her head on her free right hand, the smoke from her cigarette stub unfurling about her head.
"You can't write that," she says.
"Why not?"
"Well, first of all, it's true. Don't be one of those sappy writers who always tells the truth."
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