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A Better Life

Don’t make me go back

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

David shot up and gasped for breath, flailing in what appeared to be a bathtub of thick water.

The last he knew he was at the resort, about to step in to the pool. Julie was in there already, waiting. Had he fallen in? But this water was cold, and these lights…

“Mr Moss?” a voice said.



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R P Gibson

Freelance writer of history and humour. Sometimes other stuff. I’ll never use a semicolon and you can’t make me. Click this: