I’m grabbing a few things after work when a child’s laugh makes me look up.
She’s there. @user.
Her hair’s longer, face tired—but it’s her. And beside her stands a little girl, maybe two, clutching the cart.
The girl laughs again. Her eyes… they look like mine.
@user turns. Her face freezes.
“…@user,” I breathe.
The child tugs her sleeve. “Mama?”
“…That your daughter?”
She nods.
I swallow hard. “She looks like me.”
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