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Sig Fig “And so the sum of our routes is this?� she says strumming her fingers on the hood in the cool morning mist. A smile melts her face because she knows this mess is the best story she’ll ever tell. And so her fingers rest. Neither stirs as their minds stew. The mist is thinning, the road is straight. They can see for miles.

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BWOWP_WHITE01  

Black Words On White Paper is a unique literary journal, publishing poems and flash fiction that fit onto a single page. This is the premier...

BWOWP_WHITE01  

Black Words On White Paper is a unique literary journal, publishing poems and flash fiction that fit onto a single page. This is the premier...

Profile for bwowp
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