The Constant Leaf

The Constant Leaf

I wish my father was here. His features were calm and striking, even when his breaths were horrible. Remote pale yellow sunlight behind a screen of clouds. Landscape in darkness. Rain comes straight down in dense strands that cover the street with rain froth. The trees are so full it makes everything seem constant but fragile, as if any moment could be the last. All the news is the same news: somebody bombing somebody, somebody cheating somebody, somebody hurting the one they love, so we talk about forgiveness in a low-key unabashed way: forgive me for the errors of my youth; forgive me for th

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