Her Beautiful Days
“Pick up the book, you idiot, pick it up and throw it through the window.”
Short Story
“Pick up the book, you idiot, pick it up and throw it through the window.”
I did not belong in the bare essential apartment surrounded by all the up and comings. I didn’t belong in a bar when the nights in the hot and humid town pulsed with loneliness. I didn’t belong on the street in the middle of the night walking with a man that nearly drove me mad with sexual desire.
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