"Eleventh question," I asked, "do you think soulmates exist?"
"Probably," you replied.
"Have you met yours?"
"Me?" You answered, scratching your head. "Maybe. What about you? Have you met yours?"
I looked away. "Maybe."
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Short StoryAt 00:00, Cinderella ran away from her prince, leaving a glass slipper on the marbled steps of the grand staircase. At 00:00, I ran away from him. Unlike Cinderella, I didn't leave a single thing behind. © sonderingly
