The Flasher

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Tuesday, 25 May 2010

There was a neighborhood flasher on our street that people warned us about when we moved to Jefferson Street in Chicago.

I was 13 so I had my brother Sam, who was 18, to buy me one of those big artificial dongs at a downtown shop.

Sure enough, one day I was walking up and down the street and suddenly the flasher jumped out in front of me and opened his long coat. So I opened mine.

He was crying when I left.

-Edith Lotts

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