AND SO WE CREATED OURSELVES by Maya Rose
The boy should be the creator.
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The boy should be the creator.
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Right before sundown, this kid, eleven or twelve years old, walked into the little market.
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Felix Slater woke up dead.
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The anxious generation knows no bounds, except for ourselves.
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I often recall an inspiring flag retirement that my son Jason and I witnessed years ago.
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It looked like a garbage bag or heap of refuse.
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Dad opened the weighty scrapbook, while my son Leo bounced on the couch beside him.
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