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I watch as Nicola flicks the wheel, igniting a tiny flame. She smiles as the cigarette comes closer to the fire. She inhales, and a cherry brightens at the tip. A cloud of smoke exits her lips, and she asks, āCan we please get out of here?ā
Ranch Hand
F. Leonora Solomon
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i'm reading this but i can see it allš¬
writer/curious human. find me at http://fdotleonora.com and https://fdotleonora.substack.com. x: @fdotleonora
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