hard times at the Brokeneye Jazz Society and Jogging Club
Sines and cosines, light and sound, tides,
grains, goodbyes," she said, "are the kinds of waves
that roll through our lives like tour buses packed
with gawkers and fat-assed binoculars..." She slung
a bag over her shoulder. "You've sucked me dry.
"I'm a dried-out paintbrush. And an out of tune piano."
The car door clicked shut. She rolled the window down.
"And please don't call
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