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Pecos Bill

By Moira Crone Short Story

August 31, 2005 WHEN SHE CAME TO, Celeste’s head was under the TV stand. The Russian from last night, the good stuff, was nearby, on his side, and empty. No more Mister $3.99, the red, or Mister Andre $4.92, the champagne, either. She pulled herself up onto her stuffed chair and peered through the windows…

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