The day is softening into night, my desk in shadow as the sun moves behind the building. Birds hover in the trees as the wind blows across the surface of the sea. It’s hard to know which way to go. Every day I fear that I can’t do it. So I’m watching as it gets dark. Tonight I’m thinking about the saddest bits. Thinking, for example, that the night was alight with thunder. Lightning cracked the sky. Just a flash and then darkness again. That I loved him, and sometimes he loved me too. I’ll begin with the birds. Three…

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