I didn’t know her name until it was over
I didn’t know her name until it was over, much too late. What I knew was she was thirteen and that on this winter day, someone in her family had been pulling her behind their car on a sled. No doubt laughing and looking in the rear-view mirror, the person driving had whipsawed around a corner, and the young girl — probably screaming (fear? delight?) — held onto the sled …





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