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"Miasmic Woolgathering" -A Short Story By Ma Turner

I wake up to my little one either playing or crying in his crib. My wife is always awake before me. She asks me to go into his room and bring him into our bed. I enter his room, pick him up out of his crib then bring him back into our room where I put him in our bed. I try to go back to sleep. I’m rarely in a good mood in the morning. I don’t know why. It’s been that way for a long time. My wife and son play and laugh. He runs around the room getting into whatever he can put his hands on. It’s hilarious how much damage he can do for such a young boy. Not even two yet. I like it when he finds a pen or marker and draws on the furniture or the sheets. Sometimes it snaps me out of my mood but for the most part I’m in a funk. I usually need some alone time early in my day to adjust to the world around me. I get out of bed and take my son back to his room to change him into his clothes. His mother goes to the kitchen to make his breakfast, feeds the cat and prepares our sons lunch for nurser

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