No name, no number, but she remembered him, his eyes the color of shadow, his arms the shape of oblivion, a voice lulling her, beckoning her into the surf. His name was Brad or Tom or Steve … or was it Rick? Ten years ago his voice had been the same, supplicating and tender with the promise of fairytale.
( V.S. Kemanis )
[ Everyone But Us, tales of ]
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