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The Chopping Block

John looked out onto the empty street where the rain pounded against the street. His thoughts were of his ex-girlfriend. She had loved the rain. Clint Black popped into his head. just like rain, I’m falling for you, falling for you now

She had cut him out of her life again. This had happened on and off since their breakup ten years ago. Sometimes the cuts were clean, almost surgical. Other times they were done with a chainsaw. Friends had told him to let her ago and John had tried, but there was no one else.

Invariably, she would pop back up, after months or years, demanding friendship. There was some comfort in that. Last time she had chopped him out of her life, John hadn’t even known. He had just assumed she had grown apart from him. He only learned it was an intentional act when she had called and apologized for it.

Melancholy and nostalgia seemed to go feed the growing storm beyond the window pane as much as it did the void inside him.

Thunder broke across the sky and John watched on, waiting.

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