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… In normal times, it was Bridgit who took care of coming to things like recitals, and various sports things, and Christmas concerts, and grandparents’ days at the Montessori. But things at home seemed to have taken what the nurses, leaning in at him and touching his hand in the way he hated, quietly called “the final turn.” There had been some worrisome scurrying this morning, in fact—and Arthur, never very helpful with that kind of thing, had been sent with his daughter Eimear’s cell phone and instructions for videoing Lila’s performance. If Bridgit was alert enough when he got back, Eimear had said, they could show it to her.
Finalist: The Hemingway Foundation's "Hemingway Shorts" Contest, 2017
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