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Personal Narrative Fiction

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“I wish I could finish my thesis,” she frowned over her coffee. He bit a slice of bacon. “Why don’t you, obvious question?” “Because I don’t focus. Maybe you can, but every time I think, my mind zings a million miles. I can barely do my taxes.” “Didn’t you complete two thesis things already?” She mock glared. “You still taking ADHD pills?” “No, but I quit writing while I was on those pills. Medical meth. Mean time, I’m thinking about Tim, and my thesis and this job I’m in.” “Heavy shit.” “Fucking A. I’m 33, and I’m a space accessory for a Dakota uni. I should be like you, finishing my thesis and getting the fuck out.” “It's not such a bad school here.” “I don’t normally stress this way, but this — ” she paused, her hands circling around …show more content…

There was an odd serenity about her. It was new to her, but not that new. That’s why she’d worn her victory outfit. “I know who Tim he is. You’re right, I don’t know where he or I’ll be in another year, but I don’t need to know. What I do know is that he’s there for me. You want to have this sweaty relationship, impregnate me, and then take a plane.” “And why can’t we do that?” A filament of anger glowed inside her. “Look, you think I’m some kind of bird you ditch from an experiment.” “I don’t—” he began but stopped because he wasn’t able to disagree. * Sipping his warm beer on the slow walk back to his apartment, he recalled approaching a kestrel nest in the Utah canyonlands. It was at the edge of a cliff fall, perched above the drop. He reached in to touch the eggs, feel their weight, when mother kestrel screeched down, a fighter jet with talons. He heard the wind breaking around her and ducked in time, managing to hold onto a tree trunk to keep from sliding into the fall. He steadied himself as the mother made another pass, drawing a talon from the base of his scalp to his ear, snatching his hat, exposing his brow to the sunlight. He’d had the sense to leave the nest alone after

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