Flash Fiction

When he asked her, “How are you?” with the politeness, and sweetness
that caused her to crave for him, She responded, “Fine.”, like a thin lace dolly that really isn’t good for much of anything.
It’s stitch to transparent to hold any real feelings like rage and jealousy.
For that she would need a strong, wool rug, patterned with diamonds and
one heart, hers.


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