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i’ve forgotten what the ocean tastes like or the porcelain pale girls’ legs when they hike up their patterned skirts. i’ve forgotten the words for that crispy red fruit and those nervous...
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i asked my father if i could swim, and he said that i would drown. The Sea would imprison me – he said if my feet had left the ground. So i walked out to the water, and cried out – how...
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The grinding squeak of rusty chainssing along with the endless back and forth of the ancient swing.The fragrance of old man's tobaccodrifts away with the wind.Summer evenings are...