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Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life and loss and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

hoop dreams

I dream you every night, clear as the empty bottle of gin on my table. I once thought you lived in the bottom of them, so I did my best to drink you free. Turns out you’re someplace darker, more dangerous…my head.   I see you like a memorized photo, bouncing that official sized ball...

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