Ten.One Thousand & Eighty-Six
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There’s not much left.
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Only a dull pulse remains from last night’s migraine. I just need to get through today.
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What is my body telling me?
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We head over the hills. Cows. I miss the cows and the thin white poles of the turbines.
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The vineyards do make me happy. Everything is vibrant and green. I take pictures of leaves and grape clusters and the buildings, the roses in bloom. More of this, please.
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We stop for gas. On the back of his motorcycle jacket is a Confederate flag. The jacket appears to be new.
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Edits.
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The question for which I have no answer.
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She makes me smile. Her and her red hair and her energy.
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Little Nora and Big Nora. I can still understand 2-year-olds. Plans for a socially distant lunch.
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I confess to him that the emotions behind all of this stem from my fears and lack of confidence. “Imposter Syndrome,” she said. The inner work is never done.