The Furrows: An Elegy
Aug 17, 2022
1 minute
e was joyful and swimming and then he wasn’t. I ran in. I swam to him. I reached him and we grappled some until he managed to. A word our father would say. I knew to hold my breath and dive through the waves like our mother had taught us. But what about Wayne? Did he remember to dive, to hold his breath? There was no breath in me to ask or remind him.
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