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Weekly Contest #240
Gabriel stood in the field. Eyes closed. A zephyr gently caressed his face and moved through his hair. He was startled. Who touched me? No one touches me. Gabriel was a child of heaven, at least that is what his family had said. The wind passed through his thin cotton smock. A slight chill on his back and legs. A cold empty hand moving across his body. He shifted uneasily, refusing to move or open his eyes. Another sensation, a warm glow on his face and neck, his closed eyes saw white. Who touches me? Who bathes me in so...
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