I Skipped My Heart Medication To Buy Her A Prom Dress—And Paid The Price

driveway of our small rental house on East Miller Street. The paint was peeling in long, sad strips from the siding, exposing the rotted wood underneath. The gutter on the north side hung at a drunken angle—I’d been meaning to fix it for six months. The chain-link fence in the backyard was rusted and leaning. It looked exactly like what it was: the continue reading …