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Weekly Contest #317
A sparrow fluttered past Gerald’s window. It was his fiftieth birthday, and forty years since everything changed. June 5th. The day Grandpa met his demise in the middle of Main Street, run down by a speeding car that didn’t see the old man stumbling across the lanes, searching for something he’d never find. The family unraveled after that. But there was something worth holding on to in that mess. Grandpa loved birds. He often pointed them out as they fluttered over his burgeoning back garden, where Gerald liked to sit as a child and imagine ...
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