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Buried

As I escaped my hostile domain the blizzard outside blissfully engulfed me

Remembering my father's harsh words stung me in a place I forgot I had: my heart.

Stoically, daddy said, "It's been seven years."

Despite the -20 degree wind-chill, I felt like I was on fire.

In the white blindness I spotted a familiar male glove buried in the snow.

It was black and blue.

Holding it ever-so-gently I noticed a note hidden inside the glove as if waiting to be discovered.

In memorable handwriting it read,

"Doubt that the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love."

-William Shakespeare.

The fire spread through my bones.

This was the verse my husband chose to read to me at our wedding seven years ago.

Story by:

Magdalena Partyka

5 February 2015