when we slept together
fiction
edward w pritchard
Where we slept our bed was so big we never found our sides and the middle was so distant we ceased to commingle. Over our heads a canopy like the silk lined top of a silent double coffin kept our minds from abutting and under our backs a slab like plank of oak debarred us from rolling together. Although we were still yoked that last year we did not neighbor and although still incorporated we did not clasp or juxtapose.
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