Tag: Dead Letters for Living People
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the yellow house.
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mangos.
The mangos had been picked by beautiful pagan people who’s souls are entwined with ritual magic, Jesus ripe blasphemies and ancient spirit fantasies. The juices were making the knife handle sweet and slippery and I swallowed a smile with every other piece shorn from the leathery peel, pulpy strings catching in my teeth. The golden…
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blinking lights on a plaid sweater.
I saw you, that Christmas, by the tree, wearing a plaid sweater your grandmother had given you two Christmas’ before. The one your mother insisted you wear every Christmas since then. You looked contemplative and pensive, reflecting on the shiny red foil tinsel ornaments dangling from the plastic and metal frame that was…
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all or nothing till the end.
Demi-gods talk perversely outside my window. He lives next door. She lives down the street. The other lives two streets down. Her best friend is from another street. His cousin is from out of town. Old friends come together unawares of the burgeoning tension between them. Fast friends …