A fifty-word story written using 
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He wears a perfume of cigarettes, garlic and brandy. He reaches for the bottle.
Mummy says, *You've had enough."
Then - to me - "You're too big to sit on his lap."
Then, "Where are you going?"
The door slams and we cry.
As if we both know this time it's forever.
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If you enjoy my short tales you might want to check out my 100-word stories published on 