My niece owns a pottery shop.
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Two of the four walls were windows
The sun hid behind a cloud
Unglazed pottery sat on shelves that lined the other two walls
I asked about the price of the clay
She said she got it from the riverbank
I was surprised
I always thought she had it delivered
The sun came out from behind the cloud
Later I sat at my workstation
I could picture her digging in the mud
It was just like being a writer
The End
Girls Gone Wild is a flash fiction short story.
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