![]() The name curls around me like smoke in my insides, and butterflies I didn’t even know I still carried crash into the walls of my belly. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them, my stomach trembling uncontrollably.įuck, I really need to stop reading that. Mackenna Jones Is Back in Town! the headline says, and just reading that feels like a punch in the gut. when the headline of the entertainment section stares back at me, mocking me. ![]() It’s been almost a decade and I still find an incomparable little joy in the smell of this freshly printed newspaper. As was his morning rumple of my hair and his cologne-but not the smell of the paper. By the time I was seventeen, he was gone. they remind me of lazy Saturday mornings reading the paper with my dad, his cologne scent engulfing me. I love the crackling noise when I drop into my dining room chair and slap the sucker open. ![]() ![]() It sits on my doorstep this morning, and I love the way it smells. I’m the only person in my apartment building that still gets a newspaper. ![]()
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