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He wakes up with his hand clasping a red silk ribbon, the kind you would find holding back the hair of a small girl. His hair is wet. He wakes up next to the river with a pocket full of ribbon and the sound of water. He takes his hand out of his pocket and opens his eyes. He hears a barking in the distance, behind the sound of river water passing. The man remembers staggering, stone drunk, towards home and falling asleep in the woods by the river. There is a small sign remembering the farmhouse that used to stand on the banks of the river. He remembers drunkenly thinking last night that the ghost of a house was as good as a real roof. He rolls his eyes at himself, smirking, as he gets up to walk home before work. Dropping the ribbon, he looks for the dogs he heard barking.
Charlie Geoghegan-Clements lives in the south-eastern United States where he is learning that nothing said about friends is ever true. His recent publications have been in Versal and Dzanc Books’ Best of the Web.