ב"ה
Leah Goldman |
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![]() I hear the muffled volley of voices. First, the high pitched, tiny voice of my little girl; her pleading tone rings out clearly. Then the staccato angry bursts of my teenaged daughter's refusal...
“Oh Debby,” she answers in delight, recognition sparking. “Please come in. I didn’t recognize you with these new glasses.” The lie stands between us. We both know she could not remember who I was...
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