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Kenny Fries

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DanB Seattle

“I had given up hope,” she confessed. “Then one day I was by the river and I saw this tree and I noticed this tree had died in the bomb blast. It was still black and charred, but I noticed small branches beginning to grow.” more

Dispatches

Reading Rich’s words would be the catalytic event that moved my writing closer to what I wanted to write: a book in which my name, my experience, did appear. more

Dispatches

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