The hedgerows had all died off long ago, and now the little gate at the end of the lane was a portal to nowhere. Every morning on their way to school, Daniel went through it, Ethel went over it, Tina went round it, and Claire insulted its stupid existence, every time, without fail.
But the little gate went on existing, regardless. It would, in time, outlive us all. Outlive the lane, outlive the town, outlive time itself.
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Notes:
1. Written on October 16th, 2024
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