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Stone Bridges

Anna had announced at six that it was warm. By six-thirty she had put on a cardigan, taken it off, sworn at it, and put it back on as a political compromise. The Swedish beach house sat low among pines and pale rocks, all clean lines and smug timber, looking out over water that sparkled… Continue reading Stone Bridges

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Bang.

They were halfway through the second jug when Marcin said truth was not a social agreement, and Tony told him that was exactly the sort of sentence that made people want to remove funding from universities. Anna was leaning against the wall, wine in hand, watching the pub do its usual slow collapse into warmth… Continue reading Bang.