“Is that Dorothy?” Elaine asked as we turned up the driveway. An old woman stood next to the mailbox. Her white legs with blue veins protruded out from a trench […]
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The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged
“Is that Dorothy?” Elaine asked as we turned up the driveway. An old woman stood next to the mailbox. Her white legs with blue veins protruded out from a trench […]
Read more“My mother says the camera steals souls,” #MetaworkerMonday
Read moreI don’t want that smart bomb sort of love, that painless thing all beset with clang of rust knife, mouse click, screen swipe, before you meet to touch. I wish […]
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