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“Stop doing that,” Reyn said. “Stop playing with your meat.”

Jared cut his brown and pink and bloodied steak, juice leaking like Oceanus out of control. Potatoes couldn’t lap up enough of that stuff. To encourage the leak, Jared deliberately, calculating, pushed certain pressure with his fingers, pushed out yet more fluid. Reyn stared off into the sun setting in disgust.




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J.D. Harms

J.D. Harms

Former hairstylist, perpetual philosophy student, swallowed by poetry, writing, ideas

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