When Octopus danced across ocean's bed
The Clam lay closed, lest she be dead
His fingers, long
Her cries, a song
Now no Clam,
Only
Red
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Story Dust
RandomUnrelated micro-memories, fragments of unseen wholes, funny shorts, and pieces of poetic insight. The footprints that stories leave behind. * * * * * My Notes * * * * * 'Chapters' are between 200-300 characters each. Some, though not all, are true s...
