When tennis-ball sized hail fell in Cheyenne a few weeks ago, it shattered our glass table into a thousand smithereens….
And when the words fell and the friends turned on their heels, and the silence prevailed, I felt something else shatter as well.
I’ve scarcely thought about the pile of glass in my front yard…but there are other broken things that I constantly grate and tear, that worked their way into my dreams.
And today I wanted, as close as I ever have in my life, revenge. For them to harvest a small sampling of the pain they’d forced me to reap.
But the only one gathering anything was me, when mom called me out front to help pick up all the glass.
I crouched and peered at the dirt and debris around me on that lawn. Some of the pieces were large, piled together, easy to find. Others were…
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