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Writer's pictureKristin Bergene

Salvation

I stare at my knees. My lost day has been given back to me. Carol comes to check my pulse. She sticks the thermometer in my ear, sets my body back against the pillows and under the covers but I’m not in the room. I’m sitting under an afternoon sun, next to my pond. My skin warming, only to cool from the soft breeze. The birds spin tales of summer. I’m remembering Sam’s fingers as they run up my arm. Hotter than the sun. He begs me for a release. I stroke his cheek. I listen to him say that he still loves me.

But he won’t remember any of that. He’s found his salvation.


– – –

xx, Kristin 

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