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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2024
Submitted to Contest #274
My sister has always had a soft heart. Soft as sweetbread. She cried after the old woman, despite everything. Maybe because of everything. I remember holding her as she wept, both of us covered in soot, her fingers scalded from holding shut the oven door. After the tears, she was quiet. She trailed me through the awful house with its sweetbread walls and sugared windows. I found the clothes we’d arrived in, offered up her kirtle, and she donned it without a word. She showed no whisper of response when we found the treasure in the attic...
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