m E
watched from Purgatory, a gray, silent place. I have seen generations
of convenience and obligation.
ng of shadow and dust
Lily. It is Thanksgiving, a day for family. If the mother or
t opened. I st
ll, wearing a thin dress. My hands were tiny. I
ed me toward Silicon Valley, to a campus of glass
the entrance, a
s tall, dressed in an expensive suit, his face
His body
eyes scanned my face, searching. But he wasn't looking for
he name, but it was a qu
cry. He just took my hand,
me. You' r
o pictures on the walls. No toys. Just glass and metal.
d, avoiding my eyes. "You' re going to
t his voice was hollow. He
et. It was a secret pattern, one the real Lily had designed just for her brother. A te
from the hallway, low a
nor is here.
pa
re. My real sunflower will be saved
fell from
ured. Real
tomach. The transactional nature of his love was lai
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