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Weekly Contest #61
I'd always hated my brother for leaving. He never even told me why, and if he had, the memory had surely escaped my mind. It had always been Momma, Me, and Brandon. Brandon had been the best older brother a little girl could ask for. He never got "too cool" or "too old" to spend time with me and draw in little kids books or have fake conversations with stuffed animals that had all seemed real to my four-year-old brain. He had always complimented my art, and told me just how far my talent could take me. And the best part is...
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