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The Stories of Us

The Stories of Us

Her brown eyes were not gazing into mine. She was taking in the four of us at the table. Greeting us with a smile of recognition. Chatting with us briefly like the group of regulars that we were. We had spoken to each other dozens of times. At least, she had taken my...
How to Tell Your True Story

How to Tell Your True Story

As the seventh graders started lining up to exit the classroom, the teacher said, “Not you, Sam Owensby. You sit back down. You’re staying right here. You’ll just ruin the whole assembly.” As I recall my dad’s telling of it, the whole school was gathering for a...