Mezcal - Greg T
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gregt
He put his hand on the small of her back. SNAP! He yanked his hand back and found a snapping turtle the size of a hub cap suspended from his finger. He swung the turtle violently over his head to dislodge it. It became a tambourine and he was dancing around a campfire with aborigines. Sunrise came through the blinds. He stared down at the stripes of shadow and light across his belly and wondered where his pants were. That morning Frank vowed to never again buy the cheapest mezcal on the shelf.
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