David Williams

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The pink cotton of her shirt stuck to her skin, and she felt the ache in her calves, the heaviness of her muscles. Her run had done exactly what she intended it to do: she had lost her self and existed nowhere outside of her body. She was only the throbbing expansion of her chest, the pain in her joints, the sweat coursing down her forehead, the back of her neck, her thighs.
Halsey Street
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