Sometimes as I watch her sleep, my love for her catches me off guard, ambushing
like a flash flood on a cloudless day. She looks more like a kid than a woman
with 57 years behind her. That bright, unbridled mind of hers, finally at
peace, letting her enjoy the stillness, the quiet. It will crack the whip again, later
today, drive her too hard, to the edge of frenzy, again today. Later today.
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