Today marks the twentieth anniversary of my father’s death, taken away by a single, senseless act. It just so happens that today is also my birthday. He’d been working late. As he often did, regardless of birthdays or holidays. I understood it was a painful memory...

β€œThe year is nineteen-ninety-nine.” That sentence brings me back to my senior kindergarten class when I was five years old, where we used to read out the date on the blackboard every single day. The year 1999 exists as a stain in my mind, however, as...

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