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Briar Rose

Kim Antieau



She opened her eyes to white and realized she knew nothing.

The nurse was white, too.

Good morning, sugar,” the nurse said. “Do you know who you are?”

She shook her head and wondered where the window was. Maybe if she saw the sunlight, maybe if she saw the world really existed, she would know. Silly thought. The world existed. It was she, she was certain, who was not supposed to be.

Turn over,” the nurse said. Her voice was as pretty as anything she could remember. Though that wasn’t much. She turned over. The nurse threw off the covers and pulled up her hospital gown. “Lookie here, girl,” the nurse said. “Maybe that will jar your memory.”

She looked down at her own bare ass, twisting her head and arching her back. A small rose bloomed on her white butt, its red petals surrounded by a crown of thorns.

She touched it.

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