The lake drained to mud, the oars and barrels and cracked dinnerware drunken among the new weeds. If there's quicksand, she said, would you pull me out? He shook his head. I'd go down too. And then which of us would bear our future children? She laughed, already up to her knees.
2 comments:
Very nice, J-J.
Thanks, L! I realize now I unintentionally partially plagiarized your recent title.
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