by Parker Tettleton

He made her dollars with words inside. He’d color and fold then write and send. Inside he said the things he’d meant to show, and some of the things he didn’t mean he tried to explain, why their last afternoon was. Why dollars, she’d have said if she’d wanted to write back. She asked everything and no one. Why he could never say.

Parker Tettleton's work has appeared in ABJECTIVE, Mud Luscious, kill author, and elimae, among others. He was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Find more of his work at http://parker-augustlight.blogspot.com

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