Contributor: E.S. Wynn
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He runs, she follows. She runs, he follows. In the cold, dark streets, they reach, fingers tangling, catching as feet cascade broken noise into the distance.
When they run apart, the world is a beast, towering and cruel, every concrete facade a jaw of jagged teeth reaching the sky, tearing the sky.
When they run together, the world is a meadow, honey-washed in liquid light. Cracked asphalt is a heaven of heat. Gray glass is alive, an eye sliding with the colors of sun as they run. Every doorway becomes a haven, every café an Eden, every passing raining day a blessing brought down by the hands of happy gods.
In the smile-spotted silence, the world moves with liquid laughs, carries the rising fall of quilted mountains and waterfall waves of drifting, darkened hair as cheek rests to chest, rests smile to skin, rests and is silent again.
His hand in her hand, the world gives way, gives way to a dream of both as one.
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E.S. Wynn is the author of over 30 novels, the founder of Thunderune Publishing, and the chief editor of Weirdyear, Linguistic Erosion and Daily Love.
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