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Lawrence Rowell

 

 

Lawrence Rowell

 

Isaac winced as that familiar, dull ache swelled in his joints. The cool stone against the bare soles of his feet was particularly pleasant as he left that morning for the place where he would wait - the same place he had waited every day for nine years. This would be last time he waited. The last time he would watch the ocean surface fade from coral, to blue, to that deep black that still sent waves of agony through his heart.

 


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