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Weekly Contest #113
Frankie placed her palm on the sacred eye and waited. Standing in silent communion with the scarred stump, she lost track of time. The park, brimming with activity—families barbecuing, kids on their bikes, volleyball and basketball games in full swing on the courts—shimmered and faded away. A sensation came over her, like a low level signal coming up from the roots buried deep in the layers of sparse grass, earth, and concrete. Was this finally it? Would this be the moment she had been waiting for? One beat, then another, then . . . nothing...
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