Oh, how I adore you. Your communal tables, your fluffy croissants, your childless atmosphere. Your fresh-from-the-farm eggs and cheese, your strong coffee, your sun-soaked, dirty windows. I could go on and on, Village Bakery, but the clock is ticking and I don't want to waste my babysitter. I'll simply end with this: I'd move to Rochester ten more times because of you.
You.Complete.Me.
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