Transcription: The thunder was rolling in again. Brown rain was turning down the day lilies along the edges of the garden. There were no bees. Voices were rising in the house so loudly that the cat turned away from the back door, ready to stay in the rain rather than venture inside. Someone once said that old friends argue to keep warm, but the arguing coming from this gray house was downright searing, not warm. And suddenly the loud voices stopped. A father standing beside the streaming window with his head bent to his arm. A mother sitting at a small wooden table, her eyes closed, her fingers held tight am ...
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