I still get so nervous to post here. It reminds me of doing poetry reading long ago. Fiction, like poetry, bares one’s soul.
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Here is the photograph and my story.
Lara was healing, so she could laugh again. It wasn’t yet the vibrant laugh she’d had before, but Lara and Trey hoped for the best. They certainly weren’t about to let a life changing fall get the best of them.
“I just can’t stand it that you’re pulling all the weight these days,” Lara said. There were so many pieces and parts of her life that were hurting these last few months.
“Just lean into me, Babe,” Trey pleaded for the hundredth time.
“Don’t you mean lean on you?”
“OK. Lean on me,. It’s all fine with me. Whatever feels best for you.” He smiled Lara’s way. “Now…left,left, left right left. I left my husband alone in the kitchen, scrubbing the dishes,” Trey joked as they did Lara’s leg exercises.
Lara laughed again. It felt good to laugh at reality.
(the left right left part is some marching drill thingy – probably from the Army – that my PE class used when we had drill class, I think the original one was ‘i left my wife with 48 kids alone in the kitchen scrubbing the dishes’ or something like that)