Story #173

One time this happened...

My hands were a nervous sieve, letting go of my mom's arm to grasp a soggy cafeteria tray in a failed attempt at independence. I stared blankly at the slop in front of me - mystery meat and a suspiciously grey vegetable - as I tried to mimic the grown-ups' conversation around me. My brain refused to translate the cacophony into actual words.
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