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One Sentence


by Lindsay Marianna Walker


The summer we were fourteen we snuck out of our houses to set off black-cat firecrackers every night in the discouraged, old math-teacher's front yard; in August, her husband died of heart-failure.

 

 

 











(This is a one-sentence story. Fictionaut demands 200 characters to be published… I think I'm there now…)

 

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