The young woman played flute, sitting cross-legged on the grassy bank of Brethren Park Lake in Barcelona, Spain. She hung her head like a pendulum and played a sweetly mournful improvisation. She wore egg-shaped earrings that towed her earlobes. She had a trendy silver nose ring. Yet her clothes were unfashionable and they could have been a young man’s jacket, shirt, and jeans.
She put down her flute and picked up her tiny cell phone. She began to text intently.
BCC: SONDRA ALEXANDRE
you pushed me from your high building I am a few inches from the cold pavement can’t you tell me why? you took my father you left my mother to heroin you let her motherfucking boyfriend rape me you drive me homeless. blind copy me dear great cosmic fart. never yours forever sondra.
Suddenly there was a squawk and a…
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