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Think Kit, Day 3. Think Kit wants my strangest moment from the past year. Here it is.

In Holliday Park

A boy
made remarkable by
a blue-haired girl
made remarkable by
a rabbit, on a leash,
and all three are
standing, to my left, as I
walk at the pace set by the two
legs of my two-year-old
daughter, who is leading me to the parking lot.

We are leaving Holliday Park, and they are arriving, with a boom box, tucking themselves into the late afternoon shadows of the Indiana limestone at the end of Constitution Mall. They are white-pink skin and black fabric, youth and punk rock-lite. They are plastic-headed safety pins, dangerous but barely.

Margot swings her arms and ambles forward in the ploppy, disconcerted way that two-year-olds get to move. My eyes flick to the top of her head, blonde and wispy in the wind, then back over to Blue Girl, Boy and Bunny, then ahead.

Ahead, a perhaps Amish perhaps MennoniteĀ family of six stands together in two rows of pastel and gauze, black and starch, in the grass growing over-long in the crook made by two meeting paths. A photographer kneels 15 feet in front of them, framing up photos. They don’t stop smiling, even when the camera is down.

In a moment we are a line and Margot and I are the middle; we are a spectrum and every point on it; it feels weird feels wonderful and I am barely moving but my heart is racing.

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