Fortnight on a Flower Bed

Fortnight on a Flower Bed

I ran through the garden searching for my man, me Jose. Who was taken from me without someone asking me first if I would agree to his absence? I had just found him among the cacti, weeds, and the brown grass of the desert. And I ran fast towards him. A voice yelled, “Stop!” I froze on my steps and fell to the grass.

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Posted May 16, 2015 by andresfragosojr in category "Fiction

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