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I now sit in the dining room alone these days, mostly unused except for the carrier of random items.
“Jimmy, when are you going to cut your hair? It looks like a bird’s nest in the back!”
I open the door a crack and feel as my limbs freeze in shock. My mom and grandma are standing at my door’s threshold.
“It looks a little different since the last time I was here.” My mother replies. My mother?
As I drove to where the meeting was held, I felt my shirt stick to my chest as it burned and I could imagine the red splotches that were appearing underneath my shirt.