[33] (Re) do, M.J. Iuppa

Hot spice & whiskey, a slight burn in the back of her throat, she
sees her brother leaning against a speaker in the smoky Sycamore.
The local band is nonplus; still, he rocks against the back beat.
He dances with his cold beer. She squints to make sure he’s alone.
She hasn’t talked to him since their mother died; even then, it was
hit or miss. He could be so annoying, the way he’d disappear when
something had to be done. “Hey there,” she taps his back, tonight
is once in a blue moon and I’m buying, so stick around.

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