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A swampy night
May 22, 2018
When winter arrives, the snow falls and our feet turn to icicles. Parker inhales the smell of my wet socks. Damp as a swampy pond, I sit them next to the crackling fireplace. Unpleasantness vanishes. Parker vanishes as well. While walking outside, Parker chews them. Still wet and damp, feet begin to thaw.
© Stephen B., Milledgeville, GA
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