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Emotional Outbursts, Issue 26
I hurry home and run to her, cradle her in my arms and kiss that little, round forehead of hers. She is a feral, furry little sister that I must protect from harm. All calls for morphine are gone and it’s just her; her curdled wail at the foot of the stairs, glassy green eyes sparkling in the dark. The hurried drum of footsteps up to my bed. That flurried, black bushel of a tail. Her sullied little nose, muddied by dinner.
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