Grey Air

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‘Mr. Dawson, I’m so sorry for your loss.’

The copper whispers but I barely see his face. Red and blue lights flicker as a yellow convertible laments in flames circled by dismayed faces. Yet, I keep calling.

The sun sets in tears while I wait for her to answer.

published on 50wordstories.com

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Abhijith Parmeshwar
Abhijith Parmeshwar

Written by Abhijith Parmeshwar

another day. blue clouds. flowing words.

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