The End
2.
The oldest of them stepped forward and struck me on the chest with an open palm. Confident and aggressive.
‘We saw you walking up the beach,’ he said, smiling.
Continue readingThe End
2.
The oldest of them stepped forward and struck me on the chest with an open palm. Confident and aggressive.
‘We saw you walking up the beach,’ he said, smiling.
Continue readingThe End
1.
‘Perfect purity is possible if you turn your life into a line of poetry written with a splash of blood.’
– Yukio Mishima.
You imagine certain things when you see a beach like this.
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