Old Wool Coat in the Pawn Shop
December 2, 2013Essay by Paula Hoy
My skin tingled. I had my mother’s undivided attention. I was radiating, humming with bliss.
My skin tingled. I had my mother’s undivided attention. I was radiating, humming with bliss.
These are memories like dreams from/a previous life that flicker in an updraft
'He was weird and wonderful,' they say. 'Well, he was mostly wonderful, you know?'
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My teachers would cross off whole sentences, combine sentences, rearrange paragraphs; it was like butchery.