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I was talking to woman who owned a health food store

When a boy of 14 or 15 came up behind her.

He gently put his left hand on her waist

Leaned his head over her right shoulder and waited

For her to stop speaking

At his touch, she glanced and seeing him, she smiled

And continued our conversation.

His eyes looked into mine, curious.

I tore away from his stare.

“He’s my son,” she casually said.

We all stood there for a second, frozen in time.

There was a roar in my ears they could not hear.

I didn’t need her explanation.

The gesture was way too familiar to me.

It was a gesture I couldn’t have anymore.

I envied them

And felt like an intruder.

Yet, I wanted to linger to soak in their simple joy.

It was a part of their everyday.

And it would

never

be

a

part

of

mine

ever

again.

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