Or maybe through the minefields, when it comes to 9/11, because it has a different meaning for everyone.

We all remember where we were when events like that happened: when the Kennedys were assassinated, when the planes hit the Twin Towers.

Whitley and I had only recently lost our cabin in upstate New York and moved to his hometown of San Antonio, into the condo we’d purchased for Whitley’s mother which, now that she’d died, belonged to us. We’d packed up our things and driven West in the middle of a blizzard, and now we were lonely, missing New York, not sure about being in Texas.
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