Harlan Vaughn

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“Sorry!” he says, with many apologetic gestures. The premise of this exchange is that he’s struggling with the bags, but it’s difficult to imagine him ever having struggled. His eyes are the mint color of Lady Liberty, and his expression is moneyed and free of pain, like a royal corpse. He sets down the bags. “Excuse me but I really have to shit,” he says, and pumps his arms on the way to the bathroom.
A Touch of Jen
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