Belabored Day

One male, late forties. One child on the cusp of teen. One female, earlyish forties. In just that order, they walk through a small town. He sees CLOSED through the day’s reflection on a windowed storefront. The child watches the pavement pass beneath two feet and glances back. She sees the glare of midday sun that impairs her ability to read the text on the screen of her smartphone.

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