our neighborhood used to be some kind of indian campground. we would find arrowheads and cattle bones when digging around in the yards. when my parents bought the house, my dad filed a homestead act.
souvenirs and second chances, memories and dreams, loves and hates, strange and familiar, city sounds and city shapes, impressions and scars, catalogues and moments, life and nostalgia, imaginary friends and extraordinary ordinaries.
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