I just found out that my story “Milk” is up at 100 Word Story.
Here’s the beginning. Trust me, it’s very short and readable because, you know, 100 words and all):
Milk
In the beginning, I cried for it. Yet each night after dark, I threw up that sour formula, that fake milk warmed in glass bottles my mother tested on her wrists, so I wouldn’t burn my mouth.
Still, my mouth burned. I was a difficult baby, thin and colicky. I hungered but could not accept nourishment.
Read the rest here.

Congrats! And, yes, it was a fast read, but profound.
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