You could tell the kid was the real deal. She wasn't like the rest of us. Sure she was younger, but she had a natural way about her that any one of these girls would trade in her family jewels for. Some of them already had without nearly the payoff.
She didn't have to try. She moved a certain way. She didn't have to sand off the masculine edges, they were already soft. Like her voice. Things like that.
Life and death are black and white. It's one or the other. Death is so absolute you can almost see it. The life floats right out of a person right along with that last breath. And if you're with them, you feel it.
Read the rest of the short story here.
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