543 Day Writing Journey

Day Twenty-Four

Me and Gisele

“Let me see that tiny one,” I said. The small black puppies were in the back of a rusty farm pickup truck, parked at the exit of our local flea market in Jacksonville, NC with a sign that read Free Puppies. I picked her up and held her silky little body to the side of my neck. I had no intentions of taking her home until someone else showed interest. She was the size of a can of Campbells soup.

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