November 23, 2009
As I stood on the other side of the pasture this morning, I kept looking at the house and the bank of glass that runs across the back side. I remembered early mornings when I would slip out of the house as Cain slept in, only to look up from this point and see his face staring back from me. Wanting to come out, looking at me with a wondering look as if I had forgotten him.
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Waiting At The Window
I keep thinking that every time I look up, I’ll see him waiting there for me. That soft white glow from the other side of the glass. I keep thinking, but it doesn’t happen.