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'PAPERCUTS AT THE OFFICE' by Carlene Fraser Harris

LISP Flash Fiction Winner 'PAPERCUTS AT THE OFFICE' by Carlene Fraser Harris

Clever little hurts, those paper cuts. Reminded her of just how soft, supple, she was. They slice only the surface. Not going deep enough to draw blood. No. Eyes can’t do that. Words can’t. But still her nerves were exposed. Unshielded. Laid bare, begging the blood to pulse and rush and cover the pain.

She had been nicked a time or two. Or ten.

“Don’t be afraid to give me something to think about.”

“What are you going to do with a graduate degree?”

“Yeah… but where are you originally from? Not here.”

“Know the real definition of secretary? It’s woman in a tight skirt.”

“You know, not a lot of people like you get jobs around here.”

“Loosen up, baby, it’s a compliment.”

She sat with her cold ramen and her student debt, hunched over her keyboard. The blinking cursor beckoning her.

Times New Roman.



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