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____________________________ Nevertheless, I stood my ground... or rather I sat. Right there, where the child had left me. I sat for what could have been a moment or a day. And as I sat, I began to see visions of what I had always hoped might one day be. Though cruel and rusty, the doors of an inner chamber began to utter creaks and groans. Slowly, the doors swung their yawning, dormant way wide open! Tears were flowing upward from my throat: a fountian of losses, griefs, and pains. And then I could hear the echo of a steel trap poised to slam shut as it had so many times before. But this time, the gentle, loving light and the memory of a singing child gave me courage to continue on my way. For a season... A
little unhinged,
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Stories Dreams Poetry _____________________________
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