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... Butterflies. Eagles with wingspans wider than my arms. Cartoon characters I vaguely recognized from shows Liora used to watch. Back when she still let me sit with her. Back when Saturday mornings meant pancakes and cartoons and a little girl curled against my side.
I ran my fingers over a simple red kite, trying to decide if I was really about to do this.
Buy a kite. Fly it alone. In a park full of families.
God. How pathetic could one person get?
But the alterna ...
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