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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2024
Submitted to Contest #281
An old man trudged up the hill, his grandson beside him, their breaths visible in the cold. The boy reached up, his small hands brushing the folds of the old man’s keffiyeh, its warmth a stark contrast to the chill around them.The man paused, his finger trembling as he pointed to a house perched on the hill, its walls scarred and silent, its windows hollowed by years of abandonment. “That was ours,” he said, his voice a low tremor that carried the weight of generations.The boy tilted his head, his eyes wide with curiosity. “What happened?” h...
I choose to write what is unwritten of & speak what is unspoken about.
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