It hit like a punch to the chest. One second, I was just hungry; the next, I was staring at a man and his trembling dog, both locked on a plate they couldn’t touch. The air was sharp, the kind that bites your fingers, but the look in his eyes cut deeper. I wasn’t planning to talk. I wasn’t planning to remember him. I definitely wasn’t planning on a note that would drag an old, forgotten winter back into focus and force me to ask whether one small act can really rea… Continues…
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