Connecticut Lost – the Unwritten Novel

It only took forty-two seconds to pack up everything in David’s life that had any meaning. Unfortunately, it took four days to sift through the rest of the trash that was suffocating his life. At eighteen, he’d managed to horde a full lifetime’s worth of trash and junk, none of which he considered keeping. Graduation was in three days, Saturday night.
He’d had this bedroom for most of his life. It had seen him through the lingering nightmares of childhood, grade school crushes (Miss Stewart), and more than a couple of evenings of unrequited angst. Especially in the last year. The moon and day-glo stars on his ceiling were a passing fancy during the summer of 14, one he’d been too lazy to take care of.

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