Sarah Ziemann

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“Had a good night?” I look around. Really, I should do something with this room. Maybe burn it to the ground so they won’t have any privacy. “Get the hell out!” she screams. She is so red, her white scar shines bright like the moon. Her spineless boyfriend scurries up, hands her a dress, and rearranges his boner in his trousers.
In the Unlikely Event
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