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The Shape of Blood

Content warnings: Graphic death We had bought a house with a widow's peak even though the sea was miles away. The house was a mixture of styles, the top being fashioned after the New England design, and the bottom a California Bungalow. Each window was double-paned and there was a double front door that had two windows on either side in the shape of a half globe. There were days in that year he was gone that I would linger in the widow's peak looking out into the great nothing hoping it would conjure him back. He was not out at sea. He was not off to war. He was just missing. Many nights, I spent wishing he had gotten bored of me and left, but he had not taken his keys or his wallet. The obvious was so inconvenient, the way it would constantly present itself. People around town would stop to say hi in the grocery store, and look deep into my eyes to assess whether I had done it or not as if they could tell from one conversation. In truth, they had already made their minds up, a

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