It was a student who gave me Francis. One spring afternoon I discovered a bowl on my desk, just a few inches of clear water in it. Floating on the surface was a flower petal. As I watched, it sank. Just before it reached the bottom, it transformed into a wee fish. It was beautiful magic, wondrous to behold. The flower petal had come from a lily, your mother. The day I came downstairs, the day the bowl was empty, was the day your mother…
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