Reflections

October 6, 2016

I keep a small, rusted tin box in my desk drawer, filled with smooth river stones I collected with my brother when...

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October 5, 2016

I walked to the mailbox this morning in a heavy coat, shivering as the wind cut through my scarf. Everything looked gray...

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October 5, 2016

I remember walking the perimeter of a farm in Somerset with an old man named Arthur. He stopped at the edge of...

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