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Fiction

Hold Me

He wheeled the car around past the tight corner on which the tables and chairs stood and stepped on the gas, moving quickly past the café and into the thick traffic, copying the rapid feints and slides of the other automobiles.

My Cup of Tea

I tried to scrape together what shreds of virginity I had left, but it wasn’t enough to make anything out of, so I just threw them out in a fit of Spring Cleaning.

Tobacco Jones

We all smoke, although my parents don’t know it. My sister Martha is the oldest and it’s hardest for her because she still lives in Buffalo, not even a mile from my parents’ house. Both she and her husband Dick smoke, but they can’t do it in the house.

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The Brooklyn Rail

DEC 00-JAN 01

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