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“The Hobbler,” by Ingeborg Bachmann
Maybe there’s still hope for a new morning, for clouds that cluster like ripe grapes which, when squeezed, will release from the heavens…
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Maybe there’s still hope for a new morning, for clouds that cluster like ripe grapes which, when squeezed, will release from the heavens…
This is the seventh story in this summer’s online Flash Fiction series. Read the entire series, and our Flash Fiction from previous years,…
Could be half my life, I said, could be all of it. Could be a third, Gabby said. Source link
This is the third story in this summer’s online Flash Fiction series. Read the entire series, and our Flash Fiction from previous years,…