Maybe a little grace will pass my lips by Paul Armstrong
Around the time Amado learned to spell his Latin name (meaning “loving deity”),
his capacity to love anything was shed along with remaining baby fat.
Now he collected some desired temptations, including booze from his parents’
collection. Like Proust, he padded his walls and windows for isolation and, in his
case, to cushion the blow.
Written for Friday Flash 55 - My post in exactly 55 words - for the G-Man.
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