There are walks of pain—the pacing-around-your-house-lonesome-heartbreak kind. There are walks of joy—leaping and bold, ecstatic with good news. There are walks of new beginnings—the first steps of a child or a young woman learning to become like a child again.And there are hornets’ nests of walks that sting you with living terror.
-Gina Marinello-Sweeney
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