I beam back at her. Fuck the surgery, fuck the kids, fuck the men in our lives or no longer in our lives. This is sweet. When she catches up with me, I say, How many, just how many forty-plus women would do that?

We gaze back up at the face bleeding into the chute we’ve just skied. We *did* that, I crow. Someone should love us just for that. --Hangfire

Claudia Putnam

Stichwörter: fiction short-story confrontation-magazine

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