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The Loose Tooth
Have you ever had a loose tooth?
Your delicate, pearly white tooth clasps its scrawny, frail hands on your slippery gums. Its face is as white as a crisp, barren page. It clutches a slender, gray thread of hope. Your delicate pearly white tooth is reluctant to soften its grasp on the previous chapter.
Why?
Your delicate, pearly white tooth yearns to be written in the next crisp, barren page of your book.
You wiggle and wriggle; you wiggle and wriggle; you wiggle and wriggle until your delicate, pearly white tooth is locked away in the tooth fairy’s castle.
I had a loose tooth. Her name was Grandma. Lung cancer mauled that last slender, gray thread of hope until her scrawny, frail hands could not hold tight any longer.
Did you ever have that unfamiliar feeling after the loss of a baby tooth?
Your tongue never fails to meander to that perilous gap in your gums. A sense of peculiarity envelops your cavernous mouth each time. It feels odd; something is missing.
What is missing?
You tell me. Your pearly white tooth is tucked away with billions of other teeth in the tooth fairy’s exquisite and elegant castle. It is tooth heaven.
Sometimes I still feel an odd, peculiar feeling when my tongue lingers on memories of Grandma’s tuft of glistening, platinum hair and scarlet lipstick. Then I remember how her tender, scarlet lips kissed me goodbye.
Fragile, trembling tears trickled down my rosy cheeks many a time.
Fond memories will replace the mourning of your pearly white tooth, I promise.
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