I remember the coolness of the air on my skin. It was so fresh, so sharp, like new blades caressing me in the dusk of the evening.
I lay there still, quiet, calm.
The calmness of my body contradicted the chaos of my rapid heartbeat, but physically being calm was all I could do.
I focused on the water slowly making its way into my clothes, wrapping its silky wetness around my body, intertwining with my hair.
Calm. Be calm. Stay calm.
The river was calm that evening—rare. It was always so rapid and alive, and today it was still. A stillness that imitated death.
Seemed fitting for the occasion.
I couldn’t move, but my eyes followed his body as it inched away from mine. All I wanted was a stroll along the river with a cup of coffee.
My vision started dimming along with my breathing.
All I could think was: if you were going to kill me, you could’ve at least gotten my order right.
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