The moving van was finally gone. For a solid minute, I stood in my silent, empty house in Ohio, breathing in the dust and the echo. I’d done it. I’d orchestrated the entire move myself. I felt like a general. Then I walked to the back window and looked at the driveway.
My car sat there alone. My faithful, ten-year-old sedan that had never let me down. And it hit me like a sucker...
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