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closer;
August 22, 2011
I shut my eyes and try not to cringe as the winds whip more violently about me, and I can feel the frost of a winter that should not be here bite at my boned fingers, gnawing off the skin to spin out the corals of pink flesh that twine me together. And I try to hold on as the force of the violent gale rocks into me, spindling me to nothing, dragging me down to the depths of the ocean that claimed so many others before me.
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