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~written november 2018~

stories scribbled on a scrap and tucked into my back pocket have resurfaced after many moons. stories of a bright-eyed, just-turned-three-year-old who delighted in having the puffins at the aquarium splash water onto his soft cheeks. stories echoing in the silvery voice of . . . → Read More: quinn’s thirty-seventh month ~ into the heathers of the waters