MY GOODNESS. I just saw a film called "Ricky," about a baby who grows wings. His mother sees bruises on his back after leaving him with the boy's father for the day, and, well, I'll just say that they weren't bruises. They were the first signs of wings. The wings in their early stages were pretty gross, kind of like uncooked, hairy chicken wings from the supermarket.
But this movie was a GRAND SLAM homerun. See ya later. Out of the park. Sad, funny, triumphant, content...this is what I was feeling. I ran out of the Tinker Street Cinema before the lights went up because I didn't want anyone to see that I was about to cry.
Talk about a lesson in letting go. And reconciliation. And acceptance. And hope. My goodness. Did I mention that I liked this movie?
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