A sizable piece of it landed in my lap the other day.

I had been sitting out back, enjoying the change in weather.

It was still hot.

I was stuck on a word that wouldn’t come.

It burned a hole through my favorite jeans.

An ambulance was stopping door to door.

I didn’t want to see anyone about it.

I had a rare find I used to be holding before I looked up.

You didn’t want it sent back, did you?

The empty hole is what makes the sound of a bell.

All the time now I can smell it, lingering long after.

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