I’m sitting at my well-loved little fold-down desk looking at three-inch-ish wooden cubes on which my sweet daughter-in-law has decoupaged pictures of my one-to-two year old son and myself. Turning the cubes around in my hands to view each picture, I’m blown away by the precision-accuracy of what I remember. In one, I’m wearing a pink turtleneck and mat…
© 2024 Christy Harden
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