Exceptional Ekphrastic Prose Adrift by Debra White Story of the Month contest entry

I didn’t mean to come this far, but I needed space. I had to put some distance between myself and the demands on my time, on my energy, on my sanity. Out here, there’s nothing. Nothing except the slap of water on wood.   I breathe in, then exhale. Breathe in. Then exhale. An empty vessel, adrift on troubled waters. Author Notes Just dabbling a little. Thank you, Robyn, for the challenge :)

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