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Nov 2016
If I had a dollar for every ghost I spotted along the way, I’d have enough gas money for a year. It felt like everywhere I turned, something reminded me of the past. How when something is new, you can’t put it down. You play with it so much until one day, you do something to break it. You got bored, so you wanted to try something new. You knew what you were doing, but the toy didn’t. The ghosts of the path I walked were the owners of the toy. That toy was my heart.
Karah Wilson
Written by
Karah Wilson  Alabama
(Alabama)   
182
 
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