update from sparkleup
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@ -114,3 +114,6 @@ The seat of the bench has been worn smooth by who knows how many butts over the
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I sigh and slouch against the back of the bench. Exhaustion is warring against the drive to do *something*, and both of those are striving against the need to be alone and away from this whole spectacle. All of those 'how can I' questions are clattering up against equal-sized armies of 'too tired's and 'it doesn't need to happen now's.
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I spend an hour out there, all told. I pick at the bench. I call out to the sheep. I walk circles around the pagoda in the gray day. I bend down, pluck a blade of grass with the intent to...I don't know, chew on it like I've seen in films, but it smells so strongly of sheep manure that I drop it instead and head home to finally lay down beside Hanne and sleep.
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