... in the throes of dispersing more of the complex mess. The warming food made. The long day. The time now for a long rest. The start over again each day til is done. The sanctuary and haven piece by piece finally getting round to reclaiming. The widow weeds off. The dispute of what analysts now say about such feelings versus the fact there is no handbook for life from death that nearly claimed two, not one ... the uncirculated air still a stench in whisps...
Sundown
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