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Weekly Contest #48
The only time Mother ever disclosed something about who my real father was, we were moving from Seattle to New York. Mother was on the phone talking to Aunt Margaret about being afraid that I might find “it” during the move, and then she would be forced to talk to me about it. Mother packed the entire house by herself, she used to wait until I was in school, or out playing with friends to pack the boxes, label them, and even start putting them in in the moving truck she rented to drive across the country. When Mother was sleeping, I used to ...
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