It's getting about time, I figure, to start packing the few things I've got with me and start porting them over to the beginnings of my new home. It's not that I'm eager to get out, but I still don't feel entirely right and every day that passes is just more time that I feel guilty about taking Babe's bed from him. It's not much that I've got, but
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"Today's the day, huh?" he asks from the doorway, just before he slips past it, his arms folded like he's got a protest at the tip of his tongue.
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"So what's new, Babe?" Trying to distract from the packing is the best idea I can think of.
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