I Found a Biker Crying Behind a Dumpster Holding a Photo of a Little Girl

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Heart attack. Fifty-four years old.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She lived to see me get sober. That’s more than a lot of people get.”

The stars above us went on doing whatever stars do. A semi pulled into the lot and its headlights swept across our faces. The driver didn’t notice us. Or if he did, he left us alone.

“Earl,” I said. “Can I ask you something?continue reading …

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