Too young to understand, but old enough to remember, you can’t process all the images that flash through your mind. When you try to think about that night, you’re weighed down by a grief that's heavier than the stars. Your mother is windblown ash that circles the world, until every trace of her fades. Your tears try to follow, but they’re lost
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"You know, I’ve been remembering things, little things, so clearly- You used to read to me, um, when I was little, I- I mean, really little, from that- from that old, uh… Classics Illustrated comic book
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