We were standing at the edge of the harbor at twilight, cold, and feeling the Atlantic close by. The wind slammed into our backs and then swirled out across the water, pushing it into a million tiny waves. It gusted again and again, fanning the water into patterns that showed us the shape of the wind.
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AuthorBitter Water
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Archives
June 2019
Categories© Francie Nevill and Every Sweet Thing, 2017.
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