Liberty
Published in

Liberty

If We Love Each Other, Why Is This So Hard?

The good times aren’t always enough

He came into the garage to work on his motorcycle. I was kneeling in one corner, painting a table I’d inherited from my grandfather. Without looking up, I held out my hand and caught the bottle of sparkling water he had thrown at me. I knew it was coming. He always brought me one when we were working on our projects in the garage…

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