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September 2017, vol 13 no 3

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Bryan Rickert

The Song

The whole family piles into the van. As soon as it starts, the radio turns on with a blare. Rather unexpectedly there it is, the song. The one I haven't heard in thirty years. My guts tie into a knot and a tightness appears in the chest where it wasn't just moments before. I'm taken back instantly to that time, with that girl, with that song. Nothing hurts worse than that first heartbreak and I'm transfixed in its memory. My wife has a funny look on her face because I have a funny look on mine. "This song sucks," she says and changes the channel.

ripe avocado–
she stabs the seed deep
and twists


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