he stood by the creek, listening intently to its whispers, as if catching up with a dear old friend. the soothing rhythm, his reflection on the glassy water, his palpitating heart… he was alive. footsteps passed behind him. it was you. he knew you took this path to school at the wake of dawn each morning, from the hill that dipped above the horizon, and to the town. he waved his hand in the air, calling out in a voice he forgot he had. “hello there! can you help me? I'm afraid I'm lost.”
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