Lauren Vitale

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Here things were quieter, the forest was like a vast, deep, welcoming refuge in which one could hide. It lulled my mind. Here I didn’t have to conceal the most troublesome of my Ailments—the fact that I weep. Here my tears could flow, bathing my eyes and improving my sight. Maybe that’s why I could see more than people with dry eyes.
Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead
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