Greek Roads and Ghost Towns

By the time we dropped with the sun down from the drama of the mountains and to dusky shoreline, we were aching and exhausted. And it was the most perfect day.

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“It’s just… so heavy,” I said, on the edge of tears. I said it again, staring him down imploringly across the void of experience. Waiting for the voltage of my grief to rack his body with violent realisation. But as we said in better times, I guess you had to be there.

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