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 Dealing with Trauma

Author: Jenne Lopes
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-28 07:19:56

The glass rod glowed orange-red under the flame, softening until it drooped like honey. I twisted it carefully around the metal mandrel, just as Mami Lulu had taught me.

"Steady hands," her voice came from behind me. "Let the glass tell you what it wants to be."

The small workshop smelled of propane and hot glass, with undertones of the pine forest surrounding our cabin. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching dust motes and turning them golden. The rough-hewn wooden walls felt solid and permanent around me.

"There," I said, holding up the mandrel to show her the perfect round bead I'd formed. Blue glass with swirls of green, like the deep pools in the creek behind our cabin.

Mami Lulu smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Beautiful, mija. Now let it cool slowly."

I placed the mandrel in the cooling rack, satisfaction warming my chest. Through the open window, I could hear the creek bubbling over rocks, the rustling of pine needles in the breeze, the distant call of a ha
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  • Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging    Dealing with Trauma

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