That night I decided my hunch had been right all summer that nothing else in my life had ever mattered. I was encapsulated in darkness.
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FICTION: SAINT VALENTINA
YOU WERE BORN the day the IRA kidnapped Shergar. The radio reported it, and the t.v. did, too. The midwife suspected that the Russians had taken him.
FICTION: PINK LIPSTICK WITH GLOSS (FOURTH HEAD FROM THE LEFT)
Her hair was up in a ponytail and I took the opportunity to savor every taut muscle and tendon in her neck. This was next to the last day. I had thought I would use the week to have a few one-night stands and just have a good time.
FICTION: HOPE OF REBOOT
BY HAYES MOORE
MY SUPER-HUSBAND just sent me an interesting article. I call Paul my Super-Husband because he is both my supervisor and my husband. And because it is poetic.
The email said:
juliet—article below mentions a kid from your high school class. ...