Sometimes I forget how to speakand have to shake words outlike salt I am used to being alone When I am walkingearly in the morningor after rainand I accidentally step on the snails—their tiny shells cracking unfairly underneath my feet. I always apologize
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Nina, do you remember that summer we spent up north at Loon Lake Resort? You were so little then, all tangled hair and hand-me-down dresses with straps that slid down your shoulders. The trip north was Mom’s idea. It was the
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The rains make it impossible to drive home. She has to leave her car in the Walgreens parking lot and wade the rest of the way to her apartment. Later she hears that someone was washed away when they got out of
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She didn’t like whiskey, but she made herself drink it sometimes. She didn’t like the way it tasted, but she liked the way it made her feel: strong. She liked how the ice in her real glass glass sounded fancy clinking off
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No one thinks of me until small trees die.Or maple saplings bolt, threaten alley dumpsters, then here I am.Rank with basement must. Sawdust stuck to my wet mouth. Now wrap your arms around my barrel body, my gravity. YeahI’m a dull slug in a joke of a box
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I’m having trouble with endings.I’m not drinking enough wateror listening to any new music.To me it all sounds like a cell phoneringing and tastes like repetition.Look, you can’t hand me a hammerand not expect me to pound something.Sure, the Grand Canyon is
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Maria makes time to iron out all the creases in her white shirts. Maria has a workout schedule and takes evening art classes. Maria never burns the toast. Maria buys bath rugs from IKEA’s premium range. Maria knows the difference between Parmigiano Reggiano and Grana Padano.
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