We all live in our own individual bubbles, the safe little worlds of the belief systems that govern the content and mechanics of our existence--the identification of friends, our assumed safety, our prospects. And time after time, the skins of our bubbles are rent by the unexpected. Nothing daunted, we cobble together the slashes in our imaginary worlds, but the scar remains.
Fiorella thought she had healed from last summer, but a comment on FB caught her by surprise and reopened the wound.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
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