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Weekly Contest #298
I never told anyone what happened the night Rosie disappeared just three days before the accident that killed my brother Jesse a coincidence that would have been too strange to believe if anyone had known that they knew each other but no one did no one but me that is. Even now, fifty three years later, the memory clings like soot behind my eyes. The preacher at his funeral said time heals all things, but time is a poor physician it bandages what festers. And guilt? Guilt doesn't rot away. It ossifies, finds little rooms inside your chest to...
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