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Weekly Contest #185
My mother comes to mind whenever I experience wind. When I do, I see her standing in the water, her hair caught on gusts that seem to come from every direction around her, hiding her smile behind a curtain of golden fringe. On a nice day she would open every window of the house, and the wind would take the scent of her perfume from room to room and by extension to me. I always knew that it was her house, and I loved it there so much. Penny Lane, my mother, was my favorite person. Growing up she was always happy – even if I knew she wa...
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