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She came home to find her girlfriend unconscious on the couch, slick with vomit and drool, stinking of shit, empty bottles in a circle like fence posts, like trail markers, like tombstones.

The sweet, sweet girl, eyes like puppy eyes, made of love and empathy.

Her father's sweet baby girl.

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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips. All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.