By Ariel Gore
She never died.
I've made a terrible mistake.
I have to call my editor.
“We can't publish the book.”
I don't know how I could have made such a wild mistake.
I mean, she looked dead.
I signed the papers. I let the man from the cut-rate crematorium in Albuquerque take her body away.
But in the dream, she isn't dead.
And in the dream, sh…
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