Danielle Lashmett

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For a second, I forgot we were in Afghanistan. No, we were on a street on Tybee Island, laughing and flirting behind ice-cream cones. I could almost taste the butter pecan. It was a lifetime ago, and yesterday, all in the same breath. That’s what Nate was to me. As far away as a lifetime and as close as yesterday, as near as twelve inches.
In the Likely Event
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