the enigma rises
On Monday I stood at the top of the driveway and watched as my sons trooped down to the car. There they go. My people. From big to little, all in the navy blue uniforms of their schools, backpacks on,...
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The little boys cries in bed. His wings are coming in. It’s like the teething he did when he was years younger, but it hurts more. He doesn’t remember teething, his mother does. His cheeks, fire-engine...
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