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a laugh, free of pain

Not bothering to correct her, we sit watching as the pup digs, pulling, tugging at the juicy roots she finds until each is freed its dusty grave.

I lean over, sharing a thought, telling the boy, “Somewhere, on the other side of the world, there’s a guy in China who’s swearing in Chinese and can’t figure out why all the plants and small shrubs in his garden keep disappearing, pulled into the ground.”

He thinks for a moment, and then giggles– a laugh free of pain and doubt, free of pale-gray thoughts of who will go and who will stay, and of who will love us, and we both forget for a little while on a sunshine day.

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Eric

I've come to write.

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