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Lovely, powerful images here, Tre. It reminds me of summers at my grandmother’s pink house in New Orleans where my cousins and I huddled close at her feet, often in the dark, listening to her stories. The storms always passed. Patience paid off. The sun always returned. Thanks for sharing this.

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Andrew Jazprose Hill

"Read me, Seymour!" I write two newsletters on Substack: The Jazprose Diaries & The Fiction Fix. Short Stories & Serial Fiction. Plus Memoir, Essays & Satire