She awoke to the hangover of new motherhood. This tiny parcel on her chest weighed as heavily as her guilt at falling asleep on the sofa. As if still joined to her, he sensed her wakefulness and stirred. With circling fingers, she smoothed the black hair on his marshmallow temple. His milky breath stole her senses. Through the patio doors and beyond the wild garden, a flashlight blinked on and off. She focused her gritty eyes on the language of the light. He clutched her finger and settled to sleep as she translated its message.
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"Classic"
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