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“Mutilation!” Again that scowl, but this time it was Tanya mocking it as she lifted her eyes to the orange tree, the weirdest of all her mother’s inappropriate presents. She had to know an orange tree would never thrive in Seattle.
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Who did not say: I left my wedding ring on my lover’s nightstand, on the beach at three after midnight, in the clamping muscles of my vagina. Who mused to herself: maybe I threw it into the sky and it never came back. No, that was the hat. Or perhaps
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At her words I smiled amidst my teary eyes. Nick’s fingers moved between my right hand fingers, while to my left I scratched at Rodger’s puppy fuzz on her neck and ears. She exhaled and lay down, placing her head in my lap.
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