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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020
Submitted to Contest #86
My mother never spoke to me anymore unless she was telling me how I was a mistake and when she did, I could smell the rancid scent of strong whiskey on her breath and choked on the stench of rotten flowers radiating from the excess of expired perfume. Her blue eyes, now cloudy from years of cigarette smoke and never seeing the light of the sun, would stare at me, full of resentment and loathing. She always told me that if it weren’t for me, she would have been the most famous artist, a painter of unimaginab...
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