Traditions by Michael Sullivan (each kindness read aloud TXT) 📕

and chest. A river ran across the tops of her feet. Her pure white gown stained and ruined. The beast shook, struggled then collapsed. She dropped the knife. She backed away watching the beast until the smoke stopped issuing from its nose—its lifeless eyes glared at her in disbelief, the light gone from them.
She turned her back upon it and when she left the cave, a new dawn was rising.
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Publication Date: 01-13-2009

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