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By Lea Anne Stoughton
Last night, a Frenchman in a fedora gave me a cup of coffee meant for someone else. The embrace was meant for me. He whispered in my ear. I felt his longing shivering through his body. I showed him the inside of my car. It was an intimate and suggestive act. I drove away, coffee in hand, towards the dawn.
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AuthorThis is our showcase page, containing various submissions from various Authors. Please look for snippets about the Authors following their pieces. Archives
May 2021
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