
(Photo: Tom Pumford on Unsplash)
Her fingertips betrayed her. Flitting over the edge of her shirt. Spinning the loose string that twirled and fluttered in loops of tightening and release.
He might come. He might not.
Her quiet hope.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Flutter in 34 words

How I remember moments like these. When did life become so predictable?
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It is universal, me think, ah? 🙂 Thank you for the comment! 🙂
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You’re welcome, Na’ama… 💕
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Oh I can not only picture this, I can feel it! Wonderfully done, Na’ama.
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Thank you, my friend. It was inspired by someone I saw the other day, and while I don’t know if this was what she was feeling, this is what it evoked. For, I think it is recognizable, by most of us, viscerally. xoxo
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Absolutely. Love your inspiration and you transfered it wonderfully in so few words.
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Thank you, my friend! 🙂 xoxo
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xoxo
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I can feel her desperation and hope…
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Thank you! Yes, both … 🙂
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