Rivertide

Ahimoth breathed as he sat back on his couch. His pink eyes looked in a small, worn leather bound book. Within the pages of it were memories, good and bad, sort of like a diary, but Ahimoth would scoff and say it's a personal collection. Ahimoth opened it to a page, looking at the date listed there. Three Years Ago: Crushed I sat in the chair in our apartment, my nerves were shot, my leg kept bouncing on the floor. My teeth gritted, my hands were clenched so tig...

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