The Price Of Every Shortcut: How A Small Lie Nearly Cost Me Who I Was

for a walk.

Past the old mechanic garage where Dad used to work. Past the library where Mom still volunteered. Past the alley where I used to sell fixed phones to kids from school.

The neighborhood looked smaller than I remembered. Or maybe I’d just spent too long trying to outrun the person I used to be.

I thought about all the shortcuts I’d taken. They’d continue reading …