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Wednesday, June 23, 2010
sixtyeight
The cigarette burned to the filter, like a forgotten candle burns to the candlestick and then the house burns down to the foundation. He chuckled as he became acutely aware of the exposition; nicotine takes all the free will out of slow suicide.
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The plan was to do one piece of short fiction every day for a year. That did not work, but we're trying anyway.
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