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October, 2010

My Sweet Dandelion



Fiction

My mother doesn’t get out of bed for a week. I bring her the foods she likes—vanilla ice cream, sushi, tangerines—but she never eats them and I can’t prevent the room from smelling like greasy hair and morning breath. I want to lie down next to her, but she repulses me. If I get too close, I will become just like her.
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