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Tom is finally coming out of the flashback he’s been having for the past two Sundays. But that doesn’t mean we get to snap right back to the plot, like it never happened.
A paragraph or so after last week, Tom is back in his lawn chair with a cold bottle of water:
“Better?” Turner asked.
“Yes and no,” I said, exhausted and embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be a dumbass,” Turner told me, before going back to the grill.
Dad watched me as I got back into the chair, gripped my shoulder in a way that gave me the benefits of a hug without the fuss, and went to tell Turner what he was doing wrong.
Bryan and I sat in silence for a while.
“Tala and I triggered you,” he said, staring at the bottle in his hand. “We should go.”
“No,” I said. “No, this isn’t your fault; it happens.”
I know the image has little to do with this snippet, unless you’re in a particularly metaphorical mood, but not even for you lovely people would I risk searching the Interwebz for an image of a “dumbass”. The term is a tad too subjective for my blood pressure.
In other news, I’m going to see “Inside Out” for a delayed birthday present today with my family, so I may be a little late in commenting today, what with the movie and the probable popcorn overdose!