I came home to find my life stuffed into trash bags like it was already on the curb, my grandfather’s flannel bleeding through torn plastic while my mother’s vanilla candles tried to fumigate the crime. My parents smiled like event planners, my pregnant sister nesting in my master bedroom, my deployment pay gone, my name on a deed they’d tried to erase. Only the basement still remembered whose house this was, the concrete hiding the sa… Continues…
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