the yellow, red, and blue before mixture
the one year old, his foot suspended in mid-air, before the first step
the eager palm reaching out to grasp the iPhone 5, her first smart phone
the drop of someone's first pay check in the mail
the hot, freshly cleaned portafilter, waiting for its dosage of grinds
the flicker in the lights of a new classroom
the crackle of a previously unopened textbook in the hands of an English learner
the slight curve of your mouth before a smile
the first burst of light through the blinds of your bedroom this morning
the spark from an electric stove, preparing for the egg in pan
the first swipe of your credit card: a six-pack, gallon of milk and a carton of eggs
the huge breath in, before the dive
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