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confetti pages by Julie Allyn Johnson

• the lookout - by Julie Allyn Johnson  a young man flails in frigid water, his thin arms tiring minute by minute. storm clouds in the distance grow darker, the wind is strong; the sky, ferocious.  I’m an old woman, brittle and frail. a wheelchair defines me now; each day, a solitary futility. my sole joy, this panoramic vista from the bay… {more}
  
  

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