Rebuilding something. A new site, a different life.

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You’re another year not older today. Another year with no way to clink a glass with you, down a drink in celebration. Another year of missing this day; of missing you. Happy birthday pixie, whatever that means now x

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Seven

Seven. It’s a prime number. Is that important? It’s odd. Is that? In some cultures it’s lucky. It has a nice, round, feel. It is the number of years since you left. It feels like a point to turn around, in that roundness. In some ways I can pick any Continue reading …