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Since his mom passed, everything feels sharper for him. He flinches at sudden noises and asks questions I don’t know how to answer.
He watches me like he’s waiting for me to disappear, too.
I’ll turn to tell her something, and the space where she stood is just empty air.
Those moments gut me every time, but I can’t let Mark see that.
I can’t let him know that his dad is 36 years old and doesn’t have a clue how to do this alone.
So we walk.
That day, the sky was that pale blue that looks washed out.
A few other families were out, along with the usual assortment of couples walking dogs and joggers with earbuds.
It was a perfectly normal day, until it wasn’t.
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