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Oct 2016
The wind keep sighing in the branches. the sigh of searching wind reigns over the night. the room is chill. Just a candle, searching eyes and a dog-eared paper on a tear soaked pillow with the silhouette of a man and a woman, and abandoned hands against the dim light of the candle on it, searching an unconditional love , waiting for a family to hold them.
Short story
hfallahpour
Written by
hfallahpour
167
   Keith Wilson
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