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She wet his shirt with her tears, and he smiled behind her neck. No one loses his mind twice, he told himself. The Cheshire moon agreed.
Dan Reiter has trouble accepting the obvious.
She wet his shirt with her tears, and he smiled behind her neck. No one loses his mind twice, he told himself. The Cheshire moon agreed.
Dan Reiter has trouble accepting the obvious.
Vows etched on a matchstick. “What do I do with this?” he asks. Engine running, suitcase in hand, she says, “Burn it, and think of me.”
Courtney Watson is an English professor in Roanoke, VA. Her writing has recently appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review and more.
The tourist burned the photos once he learned he could never return home.
Paul Fallavollita writes from Greenville, South Carolina.
Every day like every other, he built the machine. The machine grew so large it could never work, and he stopped, satisfied.
Derek Dexheimer has a writing and photography blog.