To write through the window…………

The windows are open to a warm October afternoon as the phone rings and I’m startled  by the sound of the roar in my head as my eyes land on the caller ID and see my hand  lift the receiver. Children’s Home Society of N.C. I answer in slow motion, feeling the turn of the earth as a season changes. ~  ~  ~  ~  ~ She’d just turned 18 the last…

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