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  • Topless and in tutus. Crowned and temporarily tattooed. And this? A rose plucked from the neighbor's front yard. The grouchy neighbor. No, not grouchy. He's not angry. He's just not smiling. Or frowning. Or wincing. Or smirking. His house is too yellow for him.

    I'll put the rose in a cup of water. The purple cup with the wavy sides. And maybe it will live forever. Or until Mom reminds me again that flowers don't do that. They don't live forever.

    But we might.
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