Newspaper Trimmings. When I was a little girl, around eleven maybe twelve, I suffered a recurring nightmare. I would be alone in the autumnal woods after my friends went home, with nothing but a pink
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Woodland Screens
“There’s one now. You ready boy?” “I-I think so.” “One shot, take all the time you need. Exhale as you squeeze the trigger. Is your finger on the wall?” “Yeah Dad.” “Okay so-… What the…”
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