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Hope, holding

December 26, 2011

The sun seemed to slow down as it reached the horizon, as if it were reluctant to pass over that particular day. It spread heartbeat-red across the edge of the world, holding, holding, holding, like her breath as she watched, like her life as she waited, like her body, which she kept still as stone. Then it faded, the sky turning blue, then black above her. She had hope the light would return. She kept that hope inside her, ready to rise like the next day’s sun.

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