Story Submitted by Suzanne S. Austin-Hill
Between retirement and the pandemic, I find myself with a lot of free time these days. Plenty of time to clean, but only if prompted by a still, small voice (who historically doesn’t speak up very often). One day in April, I was led to organize one particular shelf of a unit in my home library. I found a framed photo of Cathee, a dancer-teacher sister-friend of mine. Only after I finished said organization would I allow myself to email her. In her reply she included a link,
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