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Short Story: Standing on an Empty Street Without Direction

Lena breathed in the chilly night air.

It was the hour of the morning when the previous night’s mistakes lingered but hadn’t taken root into full-blown regrets.
She looked up the street.

Then down the street

Then back to me sitting on the stoop, head in hands, fighting off the oncoming hangover.

Poem: There She Waits as the Wind Gently Cries

A girl in red stands on hillside
as the wind gently cries
it blows drying her tears
as the wind gently cries

She watches for boats at sea
as the wind gently cries
watching for a single ship
as the wind gently cries