The dining table is covered with things, stray board game pieces and carpentry sketches and last week's crossword puzzle. I am occasionally tempted to turn on the fan, full blast, and watch everything go into orbit, bandaid wrappers and bagel crumbs and piano sheet music. Graphic novels and nerf darts and water color paints, all of it might swirl near the ceiling, our own personal cosmos? The greasy napkins and the flower petals and the plush finger puppets, the legos and craft projects and tiny plastic soldiers, the stardust of our lives.
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