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Telltale by Janet Granger I savor the rare moments of a morning solitary: the silent voices, the wind flipping through leaves which flash fluorescent green as the sun finds them and pours itself through. The bright new spring day lifts my eyes to light dancing on my ceiling, shimmering on my walls. The moment floats on its own air, like the small telltale on the rigging, flapping merrily with the breeze. |
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Document last modified on: 08/12/1997