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What Awaits at the Farthest Ends...The night started with a bottle of scotch and a blank piece of paper. When he came to the beach it was a warm spring night, right on the verge of summer but the heat didn’t last. A chilling wind came rolling off the water as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The cold hadn’t bothered him, nothing really bothered him anymore.What Awaits at the Farthest Ends... by *prettyflour
He spent the whole night on that beach dragging his palms through the coarse sand, letting it slip through his fingers. He gave his hands a long look- still heavily calloused and riddled with scars. His skin resembled the facades of the old beach houses- cracked and weathered from too much sun. He was sure his hair must be wild, salt-ridden and damp from the ocean spray, but that hardly mattered either.
He had tipped the bottle back and drank the rest of his liquid courage hours ago, the arthritic bones in his neck still sore from savoring that last sip.
Dawn crawled up the coast like a shadow, bringing a thick mist that hovered over the water. He
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