The Dirt
I The bills sat on the kitchen table in a stack that was exactly three inches high. I counted them because I had nothing else to count. Twelve bills. Twelve things I owed and twelve reasons I could not pay. The coffee was cold. I drank it anyway. It tasted like burnt water and that was fine. Burnt water was what I deserved. Lily was sleeping in the other room. She is six years old and she has a...
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