Walking along the banks, I flee words we exchange, love superseded by dissection. Dreamer, douchebag. Unrealistic. No more words, tender, with youthful optimism.
I hope the ice breaks. I keep waiting, walking.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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The river’s cheerful flow has been blocked by ice. Huge sheets cover the lush sands, clarity of things.
Walking along the banks, I flee words we exchange, love superseded by dissection. Dreamer, douchebag. Unrealistic. No more words, tender, with youthful optimism. I hope the ice breaks. I keep waiting, walking. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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