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TheShattering

  • With Every Breath There is a Dying Wish

    Tears streamed down my face. The grains in the asphalt dug into my knees. I gripped my head and rocked back and forth. She lay in front of me, her ...

    • Short Story
    1 min read


If you can't describe what you are doing as a process, you don't know what you're doing.
— W. Edwards Deming