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Wasteland Tales #67


He watches her rage and claw at the world that torments her, this tiny, damaged monster- and he understands.
She turns, screaming, at the sound of his voice- a voice she recognises…
The screaming stops. Her eyes, pools of oily blackness, suddenly welling with frightened tears.
He reaches out.
She comes to him then, chest heaving, hair once more a faded, fragile gold. He picks her up gently with another man’s hands.
“I'm sorry.”
A small head leans tiredly against his shoulder. A frail, watery sob escapes her trembling mouth.
“I'm so sorry.”
Another man’s tears on his cheeks.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    D.M. about 9 years ago

    The other man gives this entry such a gentle softness. Great last line.

  • avatar

    Jonathan Mills about 9 years ago

    Thanks, hopefully more soon.

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