fiction by Beth Kanell

What Was Cut

When you are a girl who cuts herself, for years, with the clean antiseptic edge of a razor blade that once belonged to—well, no. Deborah never told anyone that. The first owner of the blade, that was her secret. But it never belonged to her father, or even her younger brother. She knew the therapist believed the slice of metal had family significance. But even a good therapist can carry a bad idea, a wrong idea.

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  • Kit

    I have memories that rise from within your lines of a story.