Put on my sweater duster and found the contents of its pockets: a dozen tissues in each. I was puzzled for a moment, I'm not one to carry those around. Then I realized it was because the last time I wore my duster was at my grandma's wake in April. It's been 6 months since she died. It seems both longer and shorter than that. I also realize that was the last time I cried, until now.
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