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Jill Moore's Writings

Short Story
Apr.04.2012
Susan read over the menu without enthusiasm.  If George were here, he’d order the Lobster Meunier.  He’d tempt her with a forkful and when she declined between gritted teeth (as she had for so many years), he would good-naturedly shrug his shoulder and slide it into his mouth, eyes twinkling.  This smugness, this taunting, had made her seethe for...