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The Glass House

She holds the dull cold rock in her hand.
Gripping it tight.
She wants to do it but can’t.
Inside her head the thoughts of last night flood her memory.
The smell of his skin, the taste of his lips.

She steps forward and looks into her eyes.
She is scared, terrified, shaking.
She has been unfaithful and must pay the price.
She watches the woman hold the stone,
She winces at the impending pain.

If only they could read each other’s mind.
They would realize that they are too similar.

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