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the realtor-cousin stuck through our gate an estoppel form upon which he had written they were trying to get a number "like 950,"

the property of our circumspect landlord

He didn't say anything. Then: "Dad. You weren't nice to him in the end."

His voice quivered, as if he'd suffered an irreparable loss, and in that moment, I glimpsed Thomas's former self, the boy who wept when his hamster died. Together we held a proper funeral in the backyard. All at once, I fel…

In the morning, with both boys still sleeping, I got my coat and headed out. In the past, I would have made breakfast for my husband and son, done the dishes, the laundry - a good wife, until I couldn't anymore, because it felt like a pillow was pressed on my face, cutting off my oxygen. The sun wa…