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… her, behind and to the left. She watches her eyes register that they’re unoccupied and untethered. Their master is out, and they lack supervision. They turn from the left to fix their gaze on the hand. The wretched hand that is also empty of its prior ideologies. And the eyes see. They see her and the hand, and all feel the hand’s intent.
Elle Canta
🦋 Marie A. Rebelle
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This is so weird...
🦋 Writer of raw, open, honest fact & fiction - always about life. | Owner: Serial Stories & The Patient's Voice | Editor: Tantalizing Tales 🦋
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