I was nervous about reuniting with my dad. He could be distant. Twenty seven yearsof being the only window wiper in Switchblade had forced him to distance himself from others দ্বারা at least a windowpane. I recall my mom breaking down crying on the sofa after one of their rows and him just watching her stoically, right outside the window, wiping in powerful, circular motions.
When I saw him waiting for me outside the terminal, I walked toward him shyly, tripping over a toddler and soaring into a keychain display. Embarrassed, I straightened up and fell down the escalator, somersaulting over the...
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