A Morning at the Beach

The waves crashed and slapped at the beach, slurping up mouthfuls of sand and dragging them back to the deep. Elk stood there, the letter held tight. He didn’t need to read it again, he’d read it fifteen times already.

Coward. Dash a note, run, and then move on with your life.

The spray speckled his jacket and the letter. He wiped the ocean from his eyes and tore the letter apart. He waded out and let the pieces of the letter fall from his hands, slowly.
The waves gurgled and spurt, almost sounding like they were saying “love me.”

Cannibalized from this.

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