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  • The sound of the weir was soothing and strong. Pigeons pecked around their feet, the flutter of wings beating suddenly loud as their group minds sent them wheeling up into the sky.

    The bag of books dug uncomfortably into her side, to escape their sharp corners she would have to move closer to him. Their silence wasn't uncomfortable, he wasn't a normally talkative person. The reflection of the columns was strong and dark against the foam of the water.

    Her writing hand felt cramped from all the hours of exams. Everything seemed like a blank sheet of paper. Such a responsibility to reveal what she knew. It was the only ticket out of this slow village. Everyone knew you here. Auntie Mabel could walk past any minute, or her mum's best friend. There would be lots of smiles and nudges later if they did.

    There was nothing to say yet her pulse kept surging uncomfortably as she nervously clasped her wrist. She tried to relax her spine from its bolt upright position, shuffling slowly lower into the weathered wood.

    Her shoulder touched against his.
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