It started as an ordinary morning, the kind of quiet, reflective morning one might imagine only in the pages of a book, yet it was real, painfully real. I had gone to the cemetery to bid farewell to my father, whose passing six months ago had left a void in my life that nothing seemed able to fill. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth, fallen leaves, and the faint aroma of early winter frost beginning to claim the edges of the…
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