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Sicker

November 2, 2007

That season, I was sicker than I’d ever been. Cold, cough, fever, flu; my body would not carry me down the hall. The bed pulled me under and you, you made me soup and brought me Gatorade.

While I slept, though, you played me. When I woke, everything had changed, although it had been changing all along and I just hadn’t noticed. That was when I began to heal.

2 comments

  1. these little flashes can turn the mundane into metaphor into truth in two seconds flat. awesome words, neighbor.


  2. Thanks, chica…and thanks for reading from just around the corner. :-)



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