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By Smaktakula

Heather sat outside on a chaise in deep sweating darkness, keeping company with her old friend Jose Cuervo.  Occasionally she slapped at the mosquitoes orbiting her thighs, which shone from under cutoff Levis like marble in the moonlight.

Travis couldn’t meet her eyes when he finally returned home reeking of engine oil and bad business.   

Not long after, she saw lights in the distance, watching them grow for a long time before the police cruiser arrived, wishing all her troubles could be so overt and so slow in coming.

Red and blue strobes lent the trailer a beauty she didn’t understand except that it reminded her of Christmas. 

Her heart broke a little watching them recede.

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