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friendship

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The Men We Used to Be

A man in drag holding a baby walked into a diner. Sounds like a bad joke, I know. But it wasn’t. Standing near the front door of Rosie’s there was an honest-to-goodness cross-dresser cradling a little boy, holding the bundle so tight that f [...]

Psalm

The trick was breathing in, you claimed, as if that was all they gathered to watch as you milked the crowd in your matador sash, rum-slurring some speech no one could hear above the river's thunder.

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