A short story by Annalisa Mastronardi My phone lit up. Here. Where are u? She was early, as always. I closed my book and left the...
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My mother
A short story by Annalisa Mastronardi Francis, my husband, is a creature of habit. Every morning, he wakes up early and makes breakfast for everybody. Since...
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A short story by Annalisa Mastronardi “Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their...
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A short story by Annalisa Mastronardi In the semi-darkness of your room hundreds of tiny dust grains danced in the straights traced by the sunlight. You...
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