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You were among the first I played that particular game with. We threw out the rule book handed to us by stern faced women in black robes and sought to prove how much we knew about the world, even though the category of indoor sports and leisure was a complete mystery to us both. Arguing over claiming a crucial slice of pie became too much, and we went on to other games. Years later, we showed off cars filled with pegs, happier for having traveled on our own roads. All the rancor of the parting was left behind on the highway; afternoons spent with you made me a better driver in the end. It's for the best it was temporary, but it never was Trivial.

Pressed flowers won't bloom 
again. Lovely in their time,
they are memories
sharing lessons to impart
wisdom with passage of time.

Song choice: Night Moves by Bob Seeger

This poem was Created for the prompt (created by me) at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads: It's All Fun and Games The games I worked with were Trivial Pursuit and Life.

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