"Tell me a story"
"A story? What kind of story?"
"One with a happy ending."
"There is no such thing as a happy ending. All endings are sad. Especially, if the story was happy."
"Then tell me a happy story, but end it in the middle."
This feeling was different. I found myself grinning until my cheeks hurt, my scalp prickling till I thought it might lift off my head. My tongue ran away from me, giddy with freedom. This, and this, and this, I said to him. I did not have to fear that I spoke too much. I did not have to worry that I was too slender, or too slow. This and this and this! I taught him how to skip stones, and he taught me how to carve wood. I could feel every nerve in my body, every brush of air against my skin.
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