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Weekly Contest #29
The way my dogs look when they creep so carefully into my bedroom, paws touching the echoey floor so painfully lightly to not be heard, that almost breaks my heart more than the profanities I have no choice but to listen to. My parents lost the respect to care what their child hears through these paper walls a long time ago. I crouch down, taking their fluffy, taught figures into my arms, and together on the carpet, I rock the two of them back and forth, letting my tears roll into their softness. I had a good childhood, I remind myself, as ...
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