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"Happy birthday girl,"

my roommate Constance

joyfully pronounced.

She sits in front of me

with a stack of fluffy pancakes

towering between us.

Syrup runs

down its edges

and pools onto the plate

in a sugary mess,

while a singular candle

sits on top of the delicious mass.

When Constance tells me

to make a wish,

I close my eyes,

send my hopes

and desires

up towards the heavens,

and blow out the flame.

Until I Rise AgainWhere stories live. Discover now