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Worn Heels at Tequila Sunrise

[by Salena Casha] “You can’t come,” my sister said. I was fifteen, she, nineteen, but in the hallway darkness, she looked far older. Perhaps the night had bewitched her and replaced her with someone else, maybe our dead mother. They shared far more qualities than I cared to admit sometimes: the same dazed gaze, the same […]

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