Promises, Promises by Mary Langer Thompson She's in control, doesn't care what we say behind her back, the other woman, child, and black dog between her and him. She grasps the oars, but just for today. The blues connect them, hers more vibrant, and she knows it, all other shades fading. Gabriele turns slightly toward the wide-eyed child as if to say, "Here's the catch on how to live, how to love …" Soon the blades will slap the deep lake water, and propel her toward her fate.
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