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Bland

After the earthquake, I smile.
I might fall a little or maybe a lot but I get up. 
I get up because I realize that there is nothing down there for me to do.
Down was not home; it was uncomfortable.
Poco a poco with a spoon for a shovel and faith so big, Mount Everest trembles, I crawl out.
Residue lingers but making the best of the moment is what counts.
That's all that matters.
When dry runs and inconvenient pit falls run amok. 
The moment counts. 
All the moments count. 

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