The Heart of Christmas by gneebee

the heart of christmas

He stepped up to the bar, ordered a tall cold one and sat his ass on the stool. He was on his second swallow when he felt it, a hand on his back. Not threatening, not intimidating, it was a light touch, a woman’s touch. He turned his head and there she was.

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Sunday School by lemonstar

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Everyone gets lonely, she reminds herself. It comes and goes and it’s nothing to dwell on. And her always watching Daryl Dixon – anticipating seeing him every Sunday – is just because she’s lonely. She knows it doesn’t mean anything. How can it? He barely looks at her, let alone talks to her.

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