Author: Dominick Nero

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The Right Roses

I put down the canvas bag and pushed it over to her ankles. She was still sleeping. I pulled open the zipper and grabbed the three dozen roses in my right hand, and then...

Winter Street 0

The Bells

My brother said that at night, he could hear the noises too. They were loud, like some sort of jingling going up and down the stairs, he told me. So, one night, right before...

Street 0

The Old Golden Ball

It’s my dad’s birthday today. I sit in the car in front of his house, rolling a small little ball between my thumb and forefinger. It’s heavy, made of chrome with some sort of...