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They’d met under that lamppost. You know, the lamppost on 6th Street?

A rainy evening, an empty patch of sidewalk, an two forgotten umbrellas.

Incredibly cliche but he was glad he’d had one.They shared a cab.

They chuckled about their mutual luck.He asked her to dinner, she agreed.

The love affair began.

Holiday swapping with the parents, Valentine’s Days, and anniversaries.

Tonight would be different he thought.

Standing on that sidewalk, under that lamppost.

His hand clutching the blue jewelry box, his joy eclipsed only by nerves.

Her cab pulled up five minutes to the time they first met. Another near cliche.

He didn’t care. Smiling as she exited the cab, he knew his kids would tell this story for years to come.

The story of a faded, yellow, lamppost on 6th Street.



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