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Saturday, January 29, 2011

First Story Begins

She ran without breathing, her lungs burning for lack of air. The rush of wind past her face sang in her ears, the sound punctuated with the sibilance of passing leaves, the faint snap of dry twigs under her flying feet. All around her the darkness rushed with her, a palpable presence quiet, full of meaning, redolent with summer, presaging dread

1 comment:

  1. What a great idea for a blog! I love it. Looking forward to the next! :)

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About the Author

Pilgrim, Wife, Mom, Instructional Designer, armchair theo-scientist, aspiring writer & poet.

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