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From an half-finished autobiographical comic. Cinco de Mayo is a deeply weird American holiday. Maybe I’ll finish this one.
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On Easter morning we had 2 visitors. Mourning doves. One had laid 2 eggs in a disused flower pot which they turned into a nest. For the next 19 days they diligently incubated the eggs. Never more than 2 minutes for a shift change. On that day 19, they stopped coming around. This image is the light on my phone illuminating the lack of structure in the eggs. Kelly and I think the eggs were never fertilized.
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