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03 July 2017


At least a dozen gradually softening tubs of creamy cold goodness, cavity sweet toppings, syrups and whipped cream and a cherry on top.
Tables full of young to old, sharing stories and telling tales.
I dare to dream that eternity will be something akin to this, sitting around with my favorite saints, with nowhere else we need to be.
And maybe a mug of coffee in hand, besides.

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