Tag Archives: phone
I Knew It
Put on some fucking clothes, he used to say, but his eyes would wander. He would look, because he was a red-blooded man. He would let his eyes drift over exposed rib and bared, scarred skin. Because. But he always … Continue reading
Posted in Fiction, Flash
Tagged cat, cat jones, catastrophe, catastrophe jones, cold, death, fiction, flash, flash fiction, jones, phone, pieces, winter, writing
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