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“Did the driver of that car just flash his lights at us?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, voice deep.

Thank God,” she smiled, “sometimes I think I just imagine things.”

Nobody answered. There was nobody in the padded cell to hear her.

There never had been.


Not Consciously Invited

I am here,

Though not consciously invited:

Red-ghost guest

At year’s-end party.

I quicken mascaraed pulses,

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