He makes up stories in the car. She’s a mommy’s girl; this is their one connection. He’s describing the battle of Farstof when they’re T-boned. He wakes up a week later. She never does. He makes up a new chapter every night now. The story can never end; it’s his one connection.
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I know. But there's a ever-present sense of dramatic misery that often accompanies microfiction, and it's that specific quality that makes it so addicting to me. Probably a character flaw.
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