# 7 DESERTING THIS DAY OF HURT

A gentle breeze caressed her face, her palms and feet moist.  She knew why she was there, but still she felt out of place.  From time to time she treated herself to something nice.  But this, this wasn’t the type of life she was accustomed too, not now, and certainly not before.

“DESERTING THIS DAY OF HURT”

Copyright © 2016 Annmarie Deen & David Alexian

All rights reserved.

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