Jammed

By John Grey At rush hour, we are all belligerent punks,jammed from four lanes into twojust before a 95 overpass.I’m behind a truck overflowing with scrap metal,its tarp barely tied and flapping like an enemy flag.On my left, a Chevy is trying to squeeze byboth of us in the breakdown…

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You All There, Pretty Angel? By Marie Anderson “Exceptional social intelligence,” Ms. Nickels said. “Everyone loves Hannah.” “What about her speech?” I asked the teacher. We sat in two preschool-sized chairs across from each other, our knees almost touching. My daughter sometimes sounded like a broken record. She’d wrap her…

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