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Stuck

  • MainLineWritersGroup
  • Jun 1, 2015
  • 1 min read

may WRITERS CONTEST LOGO copy.jpg

Everyone was looking for him.

From the ledge, I could see the top of his head. His light brown hair still held its style. He was wedged in the rock, one arm over his head, the hand reaching out, frozen.

I meant to scare him, but didn't think he'd fall.


 
 
 

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