Happiness. It's relative.
I wait for loss. I put my hand to my neck a dozen times a day to feel the chain that holds my mother’s wedding ring. The ring is gold and very thin. If it was thinner, it would be a strand of my… Continue Reading “Broken and Lost Things”
I wait for loss. I put my hand to my neck a dozen times a day to feel the chain that holds my mother’s wedding ring. The ring is gold and very thin. If it was thinner, it would be a strand of my… Continue Reading “Broken and Lost Things”
I wait for loss. I put my hand to my neck a dozen times a day to feel the chain that holds my mother’s wedding ring. The ring is gold and very thin. If it was thinner, it would be a strand of my… Continue Reading “Broken and Lost Things”
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