He's gone; he is here but discreet. He left me. Stranded, helpless, wailing. There is no hope left. He went off. He is sitting on the granite now.
Not solitary, a girl is with him. She sits, her flowing hair slipping over the rocks. She radiates beauty. She must have stollen his heart. I don't want her to, but she does, she makes me jealous.
I grasp it. I prick my fingers, it's still sharp. I let the dagger go...
By Sarah Class 3
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