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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021
TW: PTSD, HolocaustI got up from my spot on the ragged yellow couch, worn beige pants rustling and my knees groaning: small pops and cracks in my limbs. The popping of the joints sounded like far off gunshots: echoes in the harsh, biting wind. For a moment, I was transported back to Europe. Back to--I shook my head, ridding myself of the horrid memories that threatened to flood my mind.I walked to the bathroom, shuffling my slippered feet. Slowly--as if to not break my old, run-down, beaten limb...
The sirens blared in my ears as I crouched behind the counter filled with jewels. I twirled the small brass key in my hand, my twin brother breathing heavily next to me, smiling tightly. Jeremy and I had grown up in an old rundown orphanage together and had been released just a few months ago, as we had turned eighteen. The classic baby-left-on-the-orphanage-doorstep. We were the living incarnate. No note attached, no money, no names. Just Jeremy and I in a beige basket made of twill. Only days old....
16 year old avid reader turned writer. I appreciate all feedback :) Thanks for reading my work!
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