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Nov 2020
The dark bead dropped on the cold tile shattering into tiny droplets before fusing again into a dull black mass. The edges creeping forward, outward, swallowing the border lines, expanding, launching thin arms, with gaunt, bony fingers. Soon the dark is all there is outside in, filling the lungs, crushing the air, the life.
Haddie Brenner
Written by
Haddie Brenner  London
(London)   
93
 
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