Spray paint mists the cold winter air. Morning brushes the sky, dimming the north star’s light.
“What was the point of all this Charly if you just wanted to stay here. I’m done.”
The memory of her words fades to black. Pigment shades the final S of her name.
Cerys.
The end.
Both images used in this post are my own, taken on my phone in Liverpool.
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