Jeff Narucki

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My skin recognized the quick blunt slash of tailor’s chalk. The peril of sharp pins. This Russian tailor with his motorcycle and black leather gear, he wasn’t my mother, but my body didn’t know the difference.
Jeff Narucki
An epiphany bringing back the past via so.e physocal interact that recalls a memory.
Consider This: Moments in My Writing Life After Which Everything Was Different
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