Note 13: Not The End

  Dabs woke to a cool breeze tickling his forehead.  The sun had clocked out, while the moon half-assed her job, leaving long shadows from the boardwalk’s street lamp.  Dabs slung the backpack over his shoulder and headed downstairs.  With every window open, the creek and her breeze kissed him into her seduction, but he shook her off like a lover, he loved no more.  He reached and turned the door handle.  It fell off in his limp hand.

Every window in the building slammed shut.

He blinked, gulping for air but the windows had cut off his supply.  He rubbed his cheek because he felt the sting of a slap.   But that was impossible because he was alone, wasn’t he?

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2 responses to “Note 13: Not The End”

  1. Thanks! Laugh, have fun, know what is important, make mistakes—Live!

    Stu Mandel

    An Interested Party———–

    Like

    1. I hope you enjoy the many I make! Thanks for commenting!

      Like

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