Happy Throwback Thursday. Sometimes I feel like I could write a whole book about this town, but who would read it? The only ones interested already know.
Today’s Prompt: Where did you live when you were 12 years old? Which town, city, and country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home? An airstream or an RV? Who lived there with you?
Can I be honest? I’m not totally sure I remember where we were living that year. We moved around a lot when I was young, and by a lot I mean once or twice a year. I realize now, as a grown woman, that my mom must have had some sort of good reason for this constant moving around. Surely she wouldn’t have put me through the incessant packing, uprooting me from school after school, constantly leaving people places and sometimes pets behind without good reason.
But maybe she didn’t. If there was ever a reason, she never shared it with me.
What resulted was a very fluid childhood, in…
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