Papa can’t pose for you at the Pierce College Farm Walk. He won’t nibble your fingers or polish his horns on the trees. The secrets of why his dark, chocolatey color faded, his muscles weakened, and his legs failed were trucked away with him to his death. And if he can’t make more of him again, he’s of no use or value to them.
Charlie
They’re waiting for you. Not here, but where all perfect souls go.
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