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  • The birds circle you, more Hitchcock than Cinderella, their wide wings drawing circles in the air. You laugh at the sight, dispelling the moment of menace. Spinning in place, your hair catches in the wind, trailing behind you in a perfect wave. Somehow, you are able to freeze the world for me, the sea-sound and your hair and the birds and your smile, time suspending as though conscious that it was becoming a memory. I almost ask you how you are able to do it, to make the world hang in their air like a speck of sand in the thin part of an hourglass, but you turn away before I can. Magic comes so effortless to you.
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