His body writhed and jerked in harmony with the sounds, bacon sizzling in a frying pan. He slid his arms and legs back and forth, up and down, the wetness soaked through the back of his jeans and his blue flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I thought to myself, he’s making a snow angel. The light burned a giant ember, a beacon, in the darkness as he lay down in the dewy grass, raking his hands through the wetness. The orange glow on his face was the color of spray on tan. Thank you for respecting the author's work. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to and purchase your own copy. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
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