The first time it really hits me, I'm staring at the peeling paint on the doorknob.
I long ago memorized the feeling of coming home – the click of my key in the door, the scent of Mom's stir fry
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Erin Beckett wasn't scared of most things. She loved roller coasters, and she was the designated bug killer at home—even with three older brothers. When the offense of the other team came speeding ... [+]
At Burger King at night,
We are a few scattered
Among the tables, waiting
Or eating out of
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