“Perfect”

Last night I had a dream.

A little boy tugged at his parent’s clothes.

“Look, that one,

That’s the one I want…

I want her.”

The girl had scars all up and down the right side of her face from cutting herself.

She was trying to hide them.

The little boy didn’t care.

He thought she was beautiful.

“Really son, her?

That’s the one you want?”

“Yes,” he smiled.

“She’s perfect!”

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