The voices go on, a hum? a buzz?
She can't make out the words, static in her head.
Upset, always upset.
She wants perfection, some Norman Rockwell fantasy.
She's never seen a Rockwell, doesn't know.
He saw fantasy, memory, a snapshot moment and the reality behind it.
The hurts, injustice, cruelty.
The evil.
And he saw the good, the loving-kindness, fulfillment.
All she sees is a picture
and that she isn't in it.
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