Revolving

Today, as I entered a revolving door to leave my building, I waited for a mother with her two little girls to step in. They were at the delicate age of five, the weasly age. In the split second when I entered I knew she was going to be separated from her progeny. When I met her on the other side, her eyes raised to the heavens as the little girls continued to giggle and spin, I told her “It’s always, ALWAYS the same.”

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