The seagulls pick at the sand surrounding my feet 

aimlessly trying to pick any particle of soul from me 

the smallest one tugs a hair 

another one 

one more tug

the smell of sea slaps a smile into my face as the seagull seems fixed on not letting my soul wither 

a grin

a smile 

then a chocked laugh

the rope around my neck is no more but the seagull gently placing his beek against my neck

the seagull breaths out




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