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May 17
A broken hinge rests alone as freedom ripples in the wind. She stands tall beside the red tricycle, fenced in white and rusted green.  

Snapshots fire sepia-toned memories.  Farther down the road, where the crossroads hit the stop sign...  phones lines cross the skies.
Al
Written by
Al  M/UK
(M/UK)   
52
   Fawn
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