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Stirrings

October 22, 2007

In the morning, she walked down to the end of the dock. In the early light, she sat, her legs hanging off the edge, toes very nearly reaching the water. In the water, small fish swam. In her stomach, a small rumbling began, but it had nothing to do with the fish or the water or the light or the dock. In the weathered house behind her, the children stirred.

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