This is the nature of sorrow; often it fades with time, but once in a while it...

This is the nature of sorrow; often it fades with time, but once in a while it remains lodged below the surface of things, a stubborn thorn beneath a fingernail, making itself felt every time you brush against it. {How well I knew this, for random events would startle me into the memory of a pair of ancient eyes.}

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