A long walk on a spring day.
Little town. Little kids. Little me.
And then we come upon Shakespeare Avenue. There is something delightfully optimistic about the bard's name stamped into concrete that can't hold back the weeds. The S is askew and a crack threatens to separate an E from it's shabby friends. Still, it comforts me. Connects me to something grand and important and enduring.
Maybe I am not as little as I think.
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