A breeze blows up, touching cheek like a little child’s kiss. flutters — Ellen Hopkins

Ellen Hopkins

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A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child's kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. "Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us." We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find…… a perfect paper airplane.

Ellen Hopkins

Related Authors: Ellen Hopkins

Related Topics: airplane, death, ending, kiss, paper

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