Jill suppressed a sob, wiping a faintly grubby hand across her reddened eyes. Sorting through her mother's house was proving even more difficult than she'd thought it would be. The kitchen had been a treasury of childhood memories; the good bowls used only at birthday parties, the carving knife sharpened to a thin spine of itself, the "special
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I like the mom's style.
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Once, I drew a Scrabble hand that exactly spelled DRLOVIN. I wonder what the spirits were trying to tell me.
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And heeheehee!
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This was a really neat take on the prompt, and the dedication to the premise - using only words that spell things - was great!
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