I will never forget that day when I was brave enough to take a plunge into the dangerous depths of the forbidden sea. My mother had warned me of the cold waters swallowing me whole.
The sun set like a burnished orange and he flew against it, Icarus-esque. The island was in sight, he could see the bleached white of the beach and the topaz blue of the water.
The anger is rising again; rage thrashing and clawing. They took away everything, nothing is left, only me. It’s always been me and the world; now the world is scraped bare.
I could stop the change, if I wanted to. But I don’t. I am always in control, until the final shift. I choose to start; I could choose to stop. But I don’t.
Scarlett kept walking, convincing herself she had just inherited her mother’s paranoia. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was there, a presence in the stationary air, a being lurking in the dark corners of the sparsely lit council estate.
There was a little girl named poppy and she was picking juicy berries from the small, round berry bush. She went behind it and then as quick as a flash, out of a spooky dark hole in the sky, hopped out a cuddly duck-chick.
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