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Weekly Contest #42
It’s been one month since the last time I saw my mom. My dad says that I will soon her someday, but I am not sure about that. I’ve been wandering around town lately, looking at the places that leave traces of the mom I once knew. The mother that smelled like cinnamon and had the most beautiful brown eyes one could ever see. I know it is strange to think that someone could call brown eyes pretty, maybe she made them pretty. There was something about them that drew you in, that made you want to tell her everything about your life. I suppose th...
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