all told, she's a considerate fallen god

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Squawk sings — constantly, about whatever she last overheard, or whatever stray thought passes through her head, or who knows where she gets her inspiration. I don't. This morning… this morning I overheard her crooning a dirge to Ani about hairballs.



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Overheard at work today: Patient's mother: Is it…? It's raining. Patient's father: No, I don't think so. Patient's mother, standing and wandering to the window: Oh. No, it isn't. Funny, I thought it was. (Pause) Patient's mother: There must be moisture in the air. That I can see. Me: 😐