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June 7
You ran into me today, at the boardwalk.
Mom insisted I get out of the house, said to take Riley for some funnel cake. She was hoping you'd be there, waiting for us.
And you were.
You both were.
Her hands tied around your neck, yours on her waist. She looked like something out of an '80s movie, with her high-waisted shorts and big, expensive sunglasses.
Riley didn't understand why we walked away. He wanted to say hi, that he missed you. He didn't understand that I wanted that same thing, more than anything, in fact.
But you were "too busy."
He wanted to walk over anyway.
I bought him cotton candy instead. He said it wasn't the same; he still wanted funnel cake.
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