Charles Phillips

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First, though, one of their calves is sitting in eighth-grade geography—girl, girl girl girl, not “calf.” And this girl has this certain father you remember, and that father, he has a friend you remember as well, from looking up a long snowy slope, their monstrous forms black against the sky. For them, ten years ago, that’s another lifetime. For you it’s yesterday.
The Only Good Indians
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