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Andrea lay broken and dying on the stained mattress, and she didn’t care. Dying came with as little effort as breathing — it’s what she was made for, after all — and being broken meant nothing when she had no more purpose to fulfill. She’d become a paperweight, beautiful and naked and streaked with sweat and worse. She could funct…
Celia McKinley
🦋 Marie A. Rebelle
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What an image you paint with your words!
🦋 Writer of raw, open, honest fact & fiction - always about life. | Owner: Serial Stories & The Patient's Voice | Editor: Tantalizing Tales 🦋
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