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Vol. 16, No. 2: Southern Lives

So Then

by Murray B. Shugars

“So, you get up and pilfer a cigarette from your lover’s pack, smoke it in blue moonlight pushing through the bare kitchen window. Someone is listening.”

So, you lie awake beside a lover of many years,
and the tabby cat kneads the blanket.
You have only three days’ leave.

This article appears as an abstract above, the complete article can be accessed in Project Muse
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