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Innocence Is Bliss

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I remember once, ten years ago, between paper bag lunches and spelling lessons, recess.

The four-square lines glittered on the black pavement in the glossy sun as Barbie bandages concealed imaginary scrapes.

Shoelaces were untied, and coats were scattered carelessly among the fallen leaves despite the crisp chill air.

Khaki pants playfully chased red and navy plaid skirts, inducing playful squeals.

Smiles, spread ear to ear, flaunted the absence of teeth.

Where'd the innocence go?

Life was simple back then.





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