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AuthorAndrea Scrima

PANDORA’S CHILDREN

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By Andrea Scrima

I only realized in hindsight how close she'd come to killing me. One day, how many years later was that, I suddenly had to think—and how long had it been since either of them had crossed my mind—of course, of course, she was pondering it all the while, imagining sending me sailing straight off the cliff with one good, hard push...

SISTERS

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by Andrea Scrima

Can you imagine if you were someone else? I used to think about that a lot, that it could be just as natural to be gazing down at a completely different big toe—I mean, the toe I'd be seeing would seem normal to me, because that toe and not this one, the one I'm looking at right now, would have been the only big toe I'd have ever known as my own. As though it weren't too...

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