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The Big Secret - little word studio
By Melissa Marni Rat-a-tat-tat went longish nails on old wood. She sat at the time-abandoned Rathskeller Pub, waiting. Three tall jack-and-cokes into her Sunday afternoon, the strange man finally arrived, a wiry figure dappled in late-day shadows. He pushed a small piece of paper her way. “For you,” the man said. She scoffed. “A letter? This is the big …