“Summer breeze, makes me feel fine,”
he sang, staggering home after Last Call,
“Blowing through the Jasmine in my mind.”
He’d been singing it all night long at the bar,
singing it all night long at the bar for a week,
and was still singing it here in the unlit alley.
If she’d been there to hear it she would have
rolled her eyes and shouted, “Shut the hell up!”
Jasmine was like that. She hated all her Ex-es.
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RDP Friday — ACERBIC
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