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Weekly Contest #204
Every morning before the sun appeared, Harper found herself outside her small shop, sweeping the porch without fail. She exhaled, resting her hands on top of the straw broom. She’d still be sweeping this porch in forty years, fighting the endless battle with the sand. And what else did she have to look forward to? She had nothing but her candle shop. Her parents had died years ago, and this small shop with her tiny apartment above it was all Harper had left of them. Looking up, she could make out just a hint of the rainbow effect of th...
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