The cool, winter air nipped at her face as Sara stood rooted to the spot, her courage, and determination to take Maxwell for a ride dwindling by the second.
Maxwell’s head hung low, as his sad eyes continued to stare even as Sara turned and started to walk back home.
If only Sara knew that Maxwell’s soul and temperament were way too gentle for someone his size.
Written in response to the Three Line Tales, Week 186 prompt by Sonya. Thanks to Sonya for hosting this challenge. If you want to participate, please visit the link for instructions and other guidelines!
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© 2019 Shweta Suresh. All rights reserved.
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