Archives: Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Leaving One’s Back to the Sea

She of course was dying to tell anyone the danger of leaving one’s back to the sea, an element she said with knifing lips, too dangerous, too vast for trust. The proof, she said was etched beneath its mystery if one could see every comma traced in the surf by dancing lovers’ feet, every vanished

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Nolo Quietus

“I need to stop a minute.” “You want me to lock the wheels?” He grimaced, I can lock my own goddamn wheels left unsaid as he reached down and flipped the levers that would keep the chair from rolling down the hill once she let go. It was steep enough to be dangerous, the pine needle

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