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The Falling Hearts
The pages were wrinkled from the pressure of her pen, but placing it in the grass, she looked at what the words formed and a smile broke across her lips. A sigh of relief breathed through her like the wind through the trees above her as she folded the paper into a tiny little square. She rushed back to her beat up old pick-up truck and drove off leaving nothing but footprints and tire marks in the dirt behind her. She drove over the hill past the white picket fence, through the trees and turned left, a path she could've travelled blind because it had been etched into her memory. The truck sputtered down the street and creaked to a stop at the end of a driveway. The sound of the rusty, old truck gave her away and she saw his body crash through the screen door as hers fell out of the truck's door. She skidded past the front of the truck with the speed of the smile that peeled across her face and the scream that rose to her lips. When they collided it was with such a force and they collapsed into each other. The smell of her hair captured the curiosity of his nose, though it was a familiar scent. The warmth of his body overtook hers like a wave crashing on the beach. It seemed like all time passed in that moment and as they walked back into the house arm in arm, she took his calloused hand in hers and pressed the note to his palm. He wrapped his fingers through hers and held on tight as they climbed the steps home...
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