Musings of a middle-aged, divorced dad seeking meaning in the in-between.
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You woke as softly as you had drifted, caught in the in-between, where darkness lingers, and morning’s edges blur with sleep. Bleary-eyed, y...
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A warm voice arriving at day’s end, like a coat held open — soft, waiting — asking, “How was it?” The little dance of dinner plans... You p...
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