Thursday, September 8, 2011


Every page must contain conflict. When he first said it I thought surely not, not every page. I walked to the bookshelf, picked up To Kill a Mockingbird and thumbed through it. He was right.

The drink spills, someone takes a wrong turn, she leaves and he turns away. A forgotten returns to remind us why we must forget while our hearts long to remember. He is late and she burns dinner. We learn to laugh at clumsy and a cut heals. Broken bones mend and this too shall pass but not before we feel it. The thrill of victory could have never existed without the agony of defeat.

Every single page.

Every damn day.

So much gratitude.

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