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  • When I wave goodbye to my son in the morning, It's a ritual:

    Wave, air-kiss, air-hug. Then I fog up the window with my breath and I draw in a heart, a star and a smiling face. I wave again and leave.

    My son stands by the window and he watches the figures as the fog fades away, slowly. When it's almost gone, he turns away, and runs off to play with his friends.

    I've been missing your stories here on cowbird. I'm back now, before they fade away.
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