Photo of water.
Wallowing in the
Mighty depths, I tread water
to keep from pale blue.
About the Creator
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Final Call
She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me like she’s never going to let me go. My head spins as her lips brush against my cheek. She must be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. I shuffle backwards and ram my hands into my coat pockets, watching her reach down and heave the rucksack across her shoulders.
By Caroline Craven2 days ago in Fiction
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