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140bytefiction

After that, Terrence always conflated privacy with sin, the unseen with the unholy. He wore his shame like a tattoo on his forehead.
Years later he realized he never could have loved her because she reminded him too much of himself. And God, did he ever hate that guy.
"I didn't say the wrong name," he said with all the sincerity he could muster. "I was just role-playing." And you know what? She bought it.
Her words were a dagger. "Adoration is a good start." She laughed, then ripped his head from his body, and feasted on his tear-filled eyes.
"I love you when you write," she whispered, her fingernails digging a trench in my trapezius. There are times you have to ignore the unsaid.
"You ruined my life," she said, furious. Hours later, "You don't have that much power over me" didn't seem like much of an apology.
Blanch brings a handful of bayou to his lips. Jemmy slaps his hand away. "Don't drink dat," he says. "De crawdads, dey shit in de water."
"Don't you know how to love?" she demanded. He paused. "I love God, and I love my mother," he said. "Everything else is just affection."
The saddest part of Anne's mother's passing was cleaning out the medicine cabinet. There's nothing so final as throwing away a toothbrush.
Years later, the realization hit him all at once. Margaret had been the only woman he'd ever known who could make love sarcastically.
Alejandro's last concern was whether the stains would ever come out of the upholstery. "Death," he thought, "is filled with trivialities."
It's funny how quickly priorities shift. He tears the loop of surgical tubing from around his arm. "Don't find me like this," he whispers.
"You are not a hunter-gatherer!" she spat, finally fed up. "Taking the last crab rangoon does not make you a hunter-gatherer!"
She loved the poetry of trauma. Pneumothorax. Thrombosis. Hypovolemia. All those Greek-derived words tasted like lyrics in her mouth.
As he smeared a fat dollop of vaporub into his mustache, Marcus wondered just how he came to be most at home with a hacksaw in his hand.
As the Earth passed through the diaphanous tail of the great comet, she thought she would always love him. But it was just cosmic radiation.
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