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  • Writer's pictureJames Kidac


Where'd you get that? I held her hand. She said it was from what used to be my grandma. My heart sank. It wasn't fair. No one ever recovered well from such a bite, but thankfully, the mummified state they were in were induced in the screens, not bites. She wasn't an afflicted, and yet it was still a harrowing thing. There was always the urge to tell her to be careful of the subliminal fluff around, but the fears of being an annoying orange kept my mouth shut. We kissed, it was the only thing to do after such a terrible week, and fell into slumber on the mats with the sounds of the waves crashing over our heads. Sweetness, it was the flavour of the night.

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