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Happy Birthday

In by Lara on January 28, 2009 at 3:15 pm

He was wearing the same tie since the last time I saw him—a year ago when I turned fourteen. I started to suspect it was the only tie he owned.

Mom let him in without even a feigned upward curling of her lips. He glanced at the newly upholstered furniture. She raised her eyebrows, as if to say, did you really expect me to keep your mother’s sofa?

With one foot out the door, he handed me the bouquet. Happy Birthday. I waited until I heard his car pull out of the driveway and dumped the flowers into the trash.

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