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        ..but I felt the loss.   Every time it came  - I went to his cabin at the end of the
shining corridor and touched his name: which he had carved into the paint on the door on the
last day.  I lay down on his bed and breathed in his strange male scent: that remained there
after him. Then I smelled it again on Earth in the ibex pavilion. Sweet and spongy. 
        And coffee.  We share hot passion for that black planner   - I drink from his cup to
this day..