the apricot tree was dripping with slush. it was like liquid diamonds shattering and soaking into the grass in our backyard. I grabbed my camera and some shoes and opened our back door for the first time in months. I stood out there, dodging droplets and inhaling the chill, leaving grey footprints in the clumpy layer of snow that hadn't melted yet.
today there are only bits of torn pink petals in the grass. no diamonds.
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