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Close up. I wanna hug the shit out of these two.

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During the warm humid summers in Georgia, it was common for the boys to head to the slow river to cool off and be alone. They'd rough house and wrestle as boys do, splashing around and throwing out playful names, and work themselves up into exhaustion. Until eventually, they'd drop their playful rough fronts, and slightly out of breathe, hop onto the same inner tube, and talk as they drift away down the river. Just the birds, the insects, and the two of them together.

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