My sister just got back from visiting my niece in Seattle. She brought me back a huge ripe red pomegranate. We were at my dad’s yesterday when she handed it to me, and he said, “You always loved those.” But there was a touch of sadness in his voice, because he wasn’t the one who gave it to me.
Flash Fiction Fridays
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"I will breakfast from the cupboard where uneaten dreams are kept"
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"I foresee the successful future of a very mediocre society."
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