Something I found in my note—sometimes I dictate to my iPad’s Notes app while driving the backroads to Sam’s.
Molly blamed herself for the old cat launching up to snag a hummingbird at the feeder. That cat who can barely bring himself to the next sunny spot on the rug, and curl up properly, needed that strange inner, fire, the soul of the war god just to make it through the day.
10/9/20
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