Mytwosentences 148 (The Preston Tapley Chronicles)

Distant birds disappeared into the sunder of gathering clouds as Preston centered his new bearings on a property that was finally his, really his, despite the turn of your back fact he shouldn’t be here in the first place.

His dress, which was the simplest collection of bland, whitewashed whatevers, was the very same linen threads he wore each and every day without ever once thinking about it.(Continued from Mytwosentences 147)(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

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