Before the sleepless weekend in a borrowed apartment, before the subway where we screamed until it was clear we belonged to each other and ourselves, before we learned all the ways not to cut
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At the Brewster Arms
Patsy Cline woke me at three a.m., singing “Crazy” at high volume. Another woman was wailing even louder. It had to be Louise because she was the only living female in the Brewster Arms.
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The Antithesis of Things—Revisited
Jeff Pearson
Continue readingWatch It Burn
Sean Doyle
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