A wave of dissappointment washed over the boy. His lip quivered but he refused to let himself cry.
"I just thought," he said in a small voice, "that if I was really really good and looked after the young'uns and made sure Blind Tobey had stuff to eat, then... then my mother would come back. Because I was so good..."
He turned to go. Maybe he hadn't been good enough. But he'd keep being real good. And maybe one day, he'd be so good that his mother would come.
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The inimical is often more instructive than the benign. Between screams, try to pay attention.
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