death
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Loved and Lost (fiction)
I coughed. It’s hard to think when coughing. The only thing worse than the coughing fits was when the fat nurse would come in and close my blinds, then I couldn’t not think. It’s better to look out the window at the traffic and see cars reflecting the overcast sky as they’re stuck in traffic. Continue reading
About Me
Tethered to Cincinnati but interested in the world.