Touching Cottonwood

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Touching Cottonwood Page 87

by Randall Simpson


  Rebecca stared at the wick closely, hoping to see a small glimmer or some tiny spark starting to appear, but something inside told her with complete certainty, the life that had once been in the flame had finally moved on. It was at that exact moment, from behind her on the patio, she heard footsteps. In one continuous quick motion, as Rebecca turned around and then fainted, two strong and loving arms caught her and his daughter, and the cobalt blue candleholder, long before any one of them came close to hitting the ground.

 

 

 


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