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You're busy drawing hearts...
He can talk but she just won't listen.
She insists, insists, but really she just loves the dull noise.
The low vibration of his voice from across the car,
soothing her into sleeplessness. She draws along the fogged edges of the passenger seat window,
heart after heart, two swift motions, over and over.
She looks up into the dotted sky, always dark in Mirrorland,
and admires her star, next to his, close as they are,
just as they have been forever. "Darling...", she whispers,
her high voice cracking on the first syllable of the word.
He glances, inviting her to speak.
"How long, now?", she asks,
her softness pounding in his chest.
"Only an hour, my love."
She bites her lip, "I dread leaving you.", she says,
just as she does each morning,
just before dawn.
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