Commuovere

The car had been off for at least ten minutes. It was twelve degrees outside. The cold was creeping in. She didn’t even notice. She sat, transfixed. Listening.

The voices on the radio were even, measured, as only National Public Radio can do. They told the story of a boy trapped by his own body who grew into a man trapped by that same prison. But his mind was free. And when his computer spoke for him, her heart lifted. And when his wife spoke of him, the tears began to course down the listener’s cheeks. Right into her smile.

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