It was days later after I had just gotten back from the hospital. It was writers' group, and I was gone all day in Yuppieville. When I came home, I walked up the steps to see my Dad at the bar-b-que. "I hope I made it in time..."
"What? Made it in time?"
"To tell you I'm not hungry."
"So I didn't make too much food!?!" He snapped.
I was taken back. So, I went into the house, put my hat on, traded my sneakers for my rubber boots, got my dog, and headed for the corrals. I cleaned stalls, and took care of the horses. Fed them. When I was back in the Tahoe, I cried like a painful swelling that bubbled over.
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