Tag Archives: Eva Lomski

Cloisters

by Eva Lomski

a fuk a fuk a fuk

She wished she knew the species of tropical bird in the palm tree making that call, because she wanted to pin a medal to its chest. Late afternoon, just as the sun disappeared from the pool, and champagne corks were heard popping all over the resort, a fuk a fuk a fuk it called, tiredly, plaintively, to a potential rival or mate.

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Filed under Fiction