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she always requested my section.
“You ever smile, son?” she asked once.
“Sometimes.”
“I doubt it.”
Another day she stared at my hair and announced, “You somehow look worse every time I see you.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Hm. Better. You almost sound alive today.”
She wasn’t sweet. Not even close.
But she noticed things.
That matters more than people realize.continue reading …
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