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give me a reason
Edith died the day before New Year’s, leaving my father and I alone in our blue-clad house on Plum Street to sort through her things amongst our mess of pill bottles, dirty dishes, and inability to speak to the other normally. Read more
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favorite stranger & eyes of white
Strange sentiments of five years past have stayed neatly tucked away. Read more
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christmas, only in dreams
I despise special occasions for the sentimentality which accompanies each one. Read more
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thirty-seven
Imagine if we were together sixteen years from now? Read more
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can i write it down?
It is sometimes better to write thoughts and feelings down; really, it’s the only way to be sure of everything I say. Read more
