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old friends




Gillian and Me

Gillian and Me

We were winsome, a little different than the others, often off on our own, always looking in. I admired her, her poetic way of seeing the world, and her beige suede boots. She was smart, made pen drawings, played classical guitar, wrote poetry. She gave me the boots....

Old Tree

I drove past the old farmhouse I grew up in this week. This tree. This tree, I loved. It’s grown. So tall. I used to be able to reach the lowest branch and lay myself across it and use my five years worth of weight to bounce it up and down, up and down. Little did I...

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