The snow piles on hoods of cars, front porch furniture, pots filled with dormant living things and the beginnings of crocuses. Writing tells me it’s worth it to remember these details and the way air smells different in the white, the way sounds echo like drums...
I push the borrowed jogger stroller up our street. It’s been a challenging morning with so much whining, and I breathe deeply, letting the frustration fall as we build speed. I think again about how difficult it is not to sink too deeply into introspection with...
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