The Whir
Fortunes: Consecutive Substack Story 1170
She sang along to the song I wrote with the address of the band house in the title.
A place that breathed so hard it’s hard to breathe trying to hold the note of the last chorus, a place that got torn down, a place with memories unrelinquishable, unextinguishable.
We got a little place near the bridge and I decided to paper one wall with fortunes from fortune cookies.
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