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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021
Submitted to Contest #86
“Dog Shit,” the grizzled man said, turning into the stiff March breeze. He cupped around the flailing blue flame of his zippo, lighting his cigarette. I jammed my hands wrist deep into my pockets, hoping he wasn’t talking to me, but there wasn’t anyone one else at the bus stop. Well, no one I could see. “Excuse me?” “Dog shit,” he repeated, a thick plume of smoke spiraling out behind him. “My daddy used to always say, soon as the snow melts, first thing to show up’s dog shit. Screw robins, they’re like number three, maybe four, depen...
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