“I love you.”
It’s whispered gently in her head and reverberates somewhere above her left eye, where her grandmother is buzzing around today.
Arvilla stirs clockwise six times, taps her wooden spoon thrice against the copper cauldron, and speaks the magic words. Then, with her grandmother’s love humming in her mind like a kiss, she decants the
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And yes, indeed. Those words, that there are always new choices to be made, are ones I try to remember, too.
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And the ending is just lovely. :)
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<3
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