Patrick King

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Heather looked across the Dunes’ yard into the one behind her little rented house. Her diaphanous nightie hung on the clothesline, barely moving. Time to go, Heather thought. She sat in her chair, chewing on her sun-blistered lip. Lu-Lu slithered toward them. She placed her spade-like head on Debbie’s knee.
The Visiting Privilege: New and Collected Stories (Vintage Contemporaries)
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