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May 17, 2019
The gust goes deep. One never expects it. A barely imperceptible action triggers it. The resultant flow curls inward the detritus caked on the conduit, dumps the scrapings into the heart of the heart. A tsunami ensues. The destruction following comes not as a consequence of the wave but for the lack of its hand. Expectation is flouted. The wave dries the well, brushes off the desperately needed hope. The heart becomes brittle. Movement becomes impossible. Stasis grabs you. A sitting duck you are. The carnival bustles, for the shooting gallery is its biggest attraction. There you live to die.