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My astute readers will surely have picked up by now that I am riding that edge here, in these words.
But, ah! This story is not about me. I am not quite overflowing yet, and The Woman most certainly is not. She is reveling in the warmth of sunlight and the dance of bees and the tickling of dandelions against her ankles and the purringly soft touch of friendship.
The turn away from joy came with the arrival of therapy.