I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. I only seen her when she come with that Sister Martha. Sheppard, disregarding the taunt, "come away.
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