Chantal Laforge is remembering that a friend doesn’t like lilacs, their mom doesn’t like them either but never said a word about it because there was a bush in the yard and their dad had them go get some for her every spring. They would smile and take photos with them holding them out to her. They would put them in a vase on the kitchen table. They always liked lilacs. They write about whatever they think of. On Sundays, they pray. On Tuesdays, they poet. On Fridays, they fiction.
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