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I Bought My Childhood Home at Auction

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I walked.

The pantry door still caught at the bottom.

Dad used to repair it every winter while saying, “Old houses complain when they’re cold.”

I rested my hand against the wood and whispered, “You missed a lot, Dad.”

I ate chow mein sitting on the floor, then scribbled a to-do list onto the back of the receipt. When I tugged one loose pantry shelf forward continue reading …

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