“God I hate this place.”

That was the thought running through Tomas’ mind as he turned his face toward the overbearing sun. He squinted his eyes – deep set and creased at the corners from age – and saw a few doleful creepers lingering in the sky. But the wispy shapes did little to offer relief from the afternoon heat. Slowly, almost painfully, he turned his eyes toward the scene before him.

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Filed under: Andira

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