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Weekly Contest #92
He wished to curse those who looked at the rain and wrote poetries of love and life. Bullshit! Not a single of these drops intends love or peace—only ruination and despair. His lips trembled as his shoulders drooped under the weight of splashing droplets, those who did not abandon him. He glanced up at the sky, night stretching its inky hands and smearing the colours across the bluish-grey canvas. In the chorus of hoots and disappointed clicks of tongue from everyone those whom darkness began engulfing as the electricity was sucked out of th...
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