Foreshadows

Married and talking in hushed tones as our daughter Madeleine slept in her nearby crib, Russ grabbed the antlers from his nightstand. His rough and slivered hands caressed the tines and he humourously asked, “Which one do you think Madeleine is?” I giggled at his seemingly ‘crystal ball’ approach to the set. His hand found it’s way to the smallest tine at the bottom of the antler…

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