Grey. I was grey. Grey as the stones washed upon the shore, heavy with the history of us. Little stones washed over my feet like scattered pieces of an unspoken truth. As the sea sang in a whispered hush, I flung one stone. Then another. Stone by stone I cast you off.

Except for one. A crooked heart. This one I shall place upon your grave.

~ Annie

Anna G. Watson

~ educator, aspiring writer, simple design and style

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