Mattie awoke with the sun as she always does, washed and dressed, the empty sleeve of her left arm pinned up neatly, read her Bible and checked the contents of her larder. Now it's time for cooking breakfast (there's an art to doing it one-handed that she mastered years ago, and carries the burns to prove it), and only now as she sets the table
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Minnow?
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I recall your face but not your name.
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[She hasn't discovered yet that in the eyes of Taxon, she was that child only yesterday.]
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[ sorry he's monosyllabic, he's a bit in shock ]
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[These days, Mattie's method of dealing with shock is to barrel over it and glare it into submission.]
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That would certainly explain why I appear to be the only person who has aged a whit.
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It has been decades for me. I...do not know why the same cannot be said for anyone else here.
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I guess you should get back to your breakfast.
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