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All About Life

He watches her as she struggles to bring the wood in for the fire, hands cold, head down.  It had started to rain when she was splitting the logs but she hadn’t stopped, she’d raised the axe over and over again, slowly fading as her muscles grew weaker. It’s not a long walk from the woodpile to the house but she had done it so many times her step had begun to  falter.

He watches the same thing over and over; pick up the wood, take it to the house, come back for another load. On the final trip a log drops from her arms and she swears, knowing that she’ll have to brave the cold again in order to retrieve it. In the past it would have made him smile to see her frustration but now, as he watches her faint image, blurred and fuzzy, he feels nothing but…

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