Category: Fiction

At 8:55 p.m., my advisors leave me in my office, just as they do every Sunday night. They don’t want to be around me for the next hour. No one does. You see, there’s a tiny bomb implanted at
Grease hung in the air and stuck to the walls as Oriana scrubbed a glob of congealed ketchup on a table. Sweat hid beneath her turtleneck and she rolled her shoulders, feeling as though she had bathed in poison

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