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  • Pancakes bubbling on the griddle, my father in his cut offs stoking the remains of last night’s campfire. This is my most vivid summertime memory. It comes with the sweet smell of pine trees and blueberries. Juicy, stain my fingers, burst in my mouth, picked yesterday, blueberries. Faded gold and green awning sweeping over my head. Cool breeze off the lake, brushing my hair from sleepy eyes. Hazy like the morning but clear in my mind. Here comes my father stepping out of the smoke, the pancake magician. He's waving me over and calling, "Good Morning Sunshine!"
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