Dear Markie,
Today I held my head back against the cold metal frame of my chair in the garden and looked up at the dead white sky. The emptiness of it reminded me of the time you and I helped dad load up storage units. It was so cold that by the end of the day, our bodies were numb, and we took turns holding our frozen fingertips to each other’s skin. Do you remember when we laid on the trailer, giggling as dad pulled us from one empty unit to the next? We were more than safe, though somehow it felt entirely reckless. When you stopped laughing, staring up at the endless swirling sky, I noticed that you’d started to cry. I pretended not to notice, ignoring the sounds of your faint sniffles and let you have that moment. |
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