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Sunday, December 24, 2017

Quiet

 he trip began just before the end of school. From the wood-shaving smell of third grade out into the clean fall air, sprung free by my mother who appeared at the little window in the classroom door like a treat. You were the one who got out early. You were the one walking down an empty hall toward the big triple doors of the school. We were leaving school to drive to my grandmother’s house. Read More


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